


powerful, with a little bit of tender

by purpletulips



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Strangers to Lovers, [fleabag stares at the camera] this is a love story, is this slowburn? idk i'll update the tags after I DON'T KNOW WHAT THIS IS, it's cheesy and sappy and funny and sometimes emotional and sad., so much happens i don't even know what to tag... it's just a polyamorous nuanced love story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 41,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27991911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purpletulips/pseuds/purpletulips
Summary: A Capricorn, a Pisces, a Taurus and a Scorpio walk into a bar, for entirely different reasons — and it sounds like a joke, one that's told badly and way too long to be entertaining. It shouldn't feel special, it shouldn't feel fated, it shouldn't feel like destiny. (It does.)
Relationships: Choi Chanhee | New/Ji Changmin | Q/Lee Juyeon/Moon Hyungseo | Kevin
Comments: 37
Kudos: 104
Collections: Die Jungz Fest (R1)





	powerful, with a little bit of tender

**Author's Note:**

> hello! welcome to my nonsensical monster!
> 
> first of all, as you could see, the prompt i've decided to write is: "#117: A Capricorn, a Pisces, a Taurus and a Scorpio walk into a bar, all for different reasons — Juyeon is supposed to meet his date there, Kevin is there to drop off his resumé in the hopes of getting a piano gig, Chanhee is late for work, and Changmin's presentation for work/school flopped terribly. Later that night, all 4 of them meet, and an unlikely bond is born."
> 
> as starting note, i'd like to formally apologize to the prompter because i tweaked a little bit of the first meetings you've describes so they'd better fit my vision of the plot lol i loved this plot so much, thought it'd be a great chance to explore the 98z dynamics i am absolutely obsessed with, and i sincerely hope i made them justice. i'd like to thank my friends who have been my cheerleaders, helped me and held my online hand throughout the entire writing process. you know who you are! also a big thank you for the djf mods for the opportunity and whomever gets through the end of this thing, you're an angel. really.

To be fair, Juyeon didn’t even _want_ to go on a date. 

He’d only gotten out of his longest relationship two months ago. Because it takes him time to truly fall for someone, his healing process is also slow; it’s still a fresh wound. He loved his ex-girlfriend, went miles away from his comfort zone for her sake, to make her happy, to make their relationship work, and she cheated on him. There were lies — guilt tripping and deflecting way before it came to that point. However, he had thought those were just bumps on the road, that their bond was stronger than the petty fights and miscommunication. 

Until she told him, on their three year anniversary, she was cheating on him with his roommate, for the last six months. 

Juyeon broke things off, moved out of his old place and started living together with two noisy League of Legends players who happen to be his closest friends. He doesn’t like remembering the experience nor acknowledging how deeply it had hurt him, but he is thankful that Haknyeon and Jaehyun welcomed him into their home under such short notice. Juyeon had felt broken, unlovable, and those two were the ones who caught him in their embrace and made sure he knew he wasn’t completely alone, that he had people he could count on. 

So when Haknyeon comes up to him with a megawatt smile, clearly trying to set up a date between his friend from college and Juyeon, he listens. He indulges. He doesn’t have the energy to warn his friend that he’s deeply traumatized and will never willingly search for a romantic connection ever again unless it weaves its way into his heart without him noticing. 

“She’s so nice and pretty and she’s gone through a similar experience to you. Her ex was an asshole. I think you’ll really get along,” Haknyeon describes in between bites of the fairly expensive meat he’s bought for dinner. He makes a wrap and shoves it inside his mouth unceremoniously. 

He looks like he’s going to start talking again so Juyeon interrupts him with a laugh. “Don’t speak with your mouth full!” 

Haknyeon rolls his eyes and chews his food slowly. 

Jaehyun walks into the kitchen, curly hair falling on his eyes, a hot sauce stain on his SNU hoodie and a thick dark blue book under his arm. He drops into the nearest chair with a sigh. “Distract me. Anything will do.” 

Juyeon frowns. “What happened?” 

“Midterms tomorrow,” Jaehyun answers. “Anyway, forget that, what were we talking about?” 

“Hyung, tell him he should go on a date with Sihyeon,” Haknyeon says, eager to get back on track. “She’s seen him on my stories and said he was handsome! If nothing happens there, you can still have someone you can relate to befriend! Isn’t she nice?”

“She’s super kind, yeah,” Jaehyun confirms, serious. “If there’s anyone to warm you up to get back in the game, it’s her. But you also don’t have to agree to it if you don’t feel ready.” 

“Well, no offense, hyung,” Haknyeon starts, and Juyeon prepares to hear something either ridiculously surreal or painfully blunt. “But I feel like you’ve done enough mourning.” 

_Ouch_. Painfully blunt it is. Juyeon tries not to wince. 

Jaehyun punches him across the shoulder. “Don’t be mean, Hak! Everyone has their own pace!” 

“I know, I know! It’s just…” Haknyeon trails off and takes a sip of his apple juice “Juhyun was your first real relationship and she was bound to suck anyway. Only lucky people get away with their first relationships working, and you already had enough luck for a lifetime being born with this face and body.” 

That brings a smile to Juyeon’s face. “She didn’t have to suck as much as she did, though.” 

“Of course she didn’t,” Haknyeon’s tone is unusually serious. “She’s a bitch. My sister says I should only call women that once in a lifetime when they really fucked up, and that’s what she did. She’s a cold, heartless, snakey bitch. And that’s why I don’t like your entire idea of romance being shaped around her, you know? You deserve to get to know harmless flirtationships and fuck buddies and shit that doesn’t end with you miserable, being overly harsh to _Masked Singer_ contestants. Was that trot singer even that bad?” 

“He sounded like garbage,” Juyeon deadpans. 

Haknyeon throws him a meaningful look. He makes a compelling point. 

Juyeon shrugs. There’s no harm in agreeing to one date, he guesses. And then rethinks what he said about that poor man who was just trying to live his dream. “Alright, alright. Give her my number.” 

Haknyeon beams. "Okay! You won't regret this, hyung!" 

Juyeon is 100% sure he will regret this, but he's a sucker for pleasing the people he loves, so he'll have to deal with it. 

… 

Kevin knows he's talented, objectively. 

He graduated from his school's prestigious music program with flying colors. He does digital art, he can sing, he can act, he can cook, he can speak four languages fluently and he can play three different instruments — piano, guitar and flute. His Mandarin and his Spanish are at a beginner’s level and his drumming skills aren’t up to par yet so he didn’t factor those into the mix. His last partner, another Korean-Canadian he met through his parents named Emma, who was less of a girlfriend and more of a beard, asked him how the hell he managed to be good at everything.

He doesn’t think he’s _good at everything_. He’s a natural with the arts, and he’s willing to commit to perfect his craft. He should be proud. 

Except it turns out that trying to make it as an artist in a competitive, capitalist market is killing him inside, and that’s keeping him from reaching his goal faster. 

When Kevin was around fifteen and moved to South Korea with his mom and dad, he couldn’t socialize with the other kids. He’s an introvert by nature, and while people didn’t hate him, they weren’t thrilled by the idea of him, nor did they make a move to befriend him. Most of the time, it was like he wasn’t even there — a wallflower. He had worked hard on his Korean, thinking it could’ve been the language barrier stopping him from bonding with his classmates, but it ran deeper than that. There was a cultural gap that he couldn’t fill no matter how hard he tried, and his school experience was surrounded by that feeling of not belonging, even after making some friends. 

The only thing steady in his life, the only thing providing him with some sort of comfort, was music. The only moment he didn’t feel like a liability, like a wallflower, like the weird theater kid from Canada, was when he was playing in the school band. He was _important_ , then, a very important note holding a melody together. People would come up to him and compliment him and those were the warmest high school memories he’s had. 

It’s a huge cliché, but music saved his life, and he wanted to provide that lifeboat to other people, too. To kids like him, who were tormented by anxieties and insecurities and the need to fit in. 

So he’s decided to start paying for a three-year Music Therapy course without his parents’ help. 

Don’t get him wrong, they could pay for it. As passive-aggressive as they are about his choices, they wouldn’t leave their son hanging if the course was what he wanted to do, and they had the means to provide for him without going through financial issues later on. However, they would pressure him immensely, and hold their money over his head, and he’d rather quit relying on them while he’s got the time. He wants his independence arc to happen, and for that he needs the hustle. 

Unfortunately, _the hustle_ means he’s got to find a job and save cash until he has enough to pay for his course. And even more unfortunately, his current job sucks balls. 

“Hey, Moon,” calls Jacob, the only light inside the dark-sided establishment he worked at, his guitar resting on his lap. “You okay?” 

They work at an edgy uptown restaurant called Porcupine. 

Kevin found out about the place in high school, when a classmate mentioned that her dad had a friend who owned this _really cool place_ that was hiring. Ever since then, he’s spent his nights as a waiter there, being sworn at by rich people for ridiculous reasons and having to entertain their insane whims while dealing with his awful, awful boss. Jacob is their fixed entertainer, which means whenever they don’t have a special guest he has to get up on that wonky stage and sing his ass off while trying not to cuss out the wine-drunk aunties touching him inappropriately.

In the beginning, Kevin had thought it was the late night shift, because people show their true colors after midnight, as they would have too much to drink and start thinking no one can see them. But Haerim from the earlier shifts tells him that Porcupine is just as dreadful in daylight, and that is when he realizes. In most of these guys' eyes, the staff members are ghosts, soulless gremlins meant to serve them through their stay. They have no name, no history, no emotions. 

So funny, how Kevin goes right back to being invisible without meaning to. “Yeah, dude,” he answers, his tray perfectly balanced in one hand. “Just wondering when the fuck am I getting out of here.” 

“Sooner than later, hopefully,” Jacob pats him in the back, consolingly. “You’re too good for this place.” 

Kevin smiles at him, a wry, sad thing. “You are too, Jakey. You should be playing at stadiums and shit, not at a smelly restaurant with old ladies asking you to sign their tits.” 

“It was one time,” Jacob makes a face, the memories of that day probably flooding his brain. “It’s uncomfortable, but I feel privileged. I really just get to sit here and look pretty. You and Suyeon get the worst part, by far.” 

As if on cue, a bearded man shouts out. “Oi, waiter, where’s my Scotch?” 

“Coming right up, sir!” Kevin answers, suppressing the need to roll his eyes. “Do you want something from the kitchen? I can get you water and some of the sandwiches Soojin made for us.” 

Jacob pouts. “That would be lovely. I really would get some myself but then I’ll have to go down the stage and they’ll see me and want to _talk_.” 

“I got you,” Kevin winks at him. “Let me go give Dumbledore his Scotch and I’ll get back to you in a minute.” 

He hurries to the kitchen, figuring there’s nothing more dreadful than leaving a customer waiting for their alcohol. Soojin, the cook, places a plate of fried chicken with sauce in the middle on the counter. “Table five,” she tells him with a nod to their direction, a single mother with two rowdy children. 

Kevin whistles. “Those are real angels, aren’t they.” 

“I don’t know why people bring their kids to this dumpster,” Yuji comments under her breath. She’s the dishwasher, responsible for cleaning every utensil used in the cooking process. Jungwoo chuckles — he’s a recent hire, helps Soojin around with basic tasks in meal preparation so she doesn’t feel too overwhelmed. There’s another cook and two other dishwashers, but Kevin doesn’t know them very well, only exchanges basic greetings with them as he picks up all the orders. 

This part requires trained skill. He places the fried chicken and the orange juice in one tray, the sandwich and the water bottle and the Scotch on another. He used to have such a hard time with this when he was a sophomore, since he’s never been the most agile person out there. He’s been working at Porcupine for so long, though, he weaves his way through the restaurant without much fuss. He serves table five: one of the kids cheer at the sight of food and he chuckles, amused. He serves table three, Dumbledore’s table, and the man is surprisingly polite as he accepts his drink. Finally, he goes up to Jacob and hands him his food. 

“Thanks, Kev,” Jacob beams at him, unwrapping his sandwich. 

And you’d think the worst part of Porcupine were the bad days. You’d think the worst part would be children bawling or grown adults peeing all over the bathroom or a group of drunk college students pestering Jacob with overly erotic song requests. No, the worst part about this job is the good days, when he gets decent customers who thank him, and rich former athletes don’t call him slurs as he turns around, and handsy men don’t make Suyeon uncomfortable, and Jacob gets to sing his Bon Iver mashups in peace. 

Days like today. Days where he thinks _hey, this isn’t so bad, I’m actually good at this, I could stay here forever and it wouldn’t kill me_. Days where he notices he has settled for a minimum wage job, and doing what he’s passionate about seems more and more like an impossibility. 

“Table eight and table nine are ready!” Jungwoo yells, placing the orders on the counter. 

Kevin puts fries with cheddar and bacon on one tray and three mugs of beer on the other. He makes his way to the tables effortlessly, like he’s done this his entire life, with Jacob singing Ed Sheeran in the background. 

He really needs to get the fuck out of this place. 

… 

Chanhee likes thinking he has his life at least partially together. 

During the day, he’s a college student, majoring in Mathematics. He’s always been amazing with numbers, and born in a family where money was a constant issue, he couldn’t pursue a career in singing despite really liking it. He doesn’t get along with his peers very much — he has a couple people he talks to, casually, to catch up in case he gets sick and can’t attend classes, but no deep friendships among his classmates. His mind is logical to a fault and he wouldn’t blame people who chose the same career as he did for being the same. However, logical doesn’t have to mean _boring_ : Chanhee sees it in the way they stare at his pink hair, at his high-waisted shorts, in the way they lower their voices to gossip about him coming to class wearing makeup. 

They don’t get originality, or having fun, or experimenting with their style. They know how to crunch numbers and that’s it. Chanhee won’t form a connection with people who treat him like he’s an anomaly, though, and he feels like that shouldn’t be expected of him. 

Despite the lack of a social circle, he does well academically. He’s in the tutoring program, a useful way to prepare for what’s ahead, considering he thinks he might have a future in teaching rather than scientific research. He thinks he’s good at it — he has yet to have any complaints from the students he helps, at least.

Then, at night, he turns into Choi Chanhee, the bartender, the more exciting facet of his personality. 

He works at a bar two blocks from his apartment. It’s a chill place, bustling with life yet never too packed to move, probably because food and drinks there are more expensive there than the usual place in his neighborhood. Their higher prices are compensated by the stellar customer service and the overall good quality of everything they offer, plus the singers and bands they hire to give people background music while they’re chatting. Chanhee usually stays behind his counter, making cocktails recipes that sound too extra to taste good and minding his business. He’s friendly with his boss and the rest of the night shift staff, and he learned all about the bartender antics that are expected of him pretty quickly. Folks hire him for parties, sometimes, which aren’t the most pleasant experiences as an introvert, but at least he gets to make money out of it. 

He goes home at around three in the morning and, on a good day, he passes out on his bed. If he’s feeling particularly exhausted, though, he’ll just lie on the couch and only wake up when his roommate tells him breakfast is ready. 

“I made scrambled eggs!” Keonhee announces, too chirpy for the morning. 

Around his first year of college, Chanhee told a coworker of his about wanting to move out of his parents’ house but rent was too expensive. Keonhee was her friend from college and the expenses of living alone were starting to overwhelm him, so she gave him Chanhee’s phone number and they started living together. Unlike what usually happens when you pair up strangers and pray to the higher heavens that they can get along, the two of them find out they have a lot in common. 

It’s mostly thanks to Keonhee’s clingy nature, how much of an expansive extrovert he is, looking for a home in everyone who crosses his way. Chanhee, on the other hand, tends to stay on his lane, keep to himself, doesn’t go out of his way to try and ruin a perfectly practical arrangement with a useless matter like _friendship_. 

He's all bark and no bite, though, and Keonhee sees right through him, worms his way inside Chanhee's intimate, very exclusive social circle. It's nice to live with someone supportive, for once. Someone who respects him, understands him, gives him space and privacy. Keonhee is too nice to be pushed away, too kind, too accommodating - well, there's _one_ thing he asks for. 

"Five more minutes," Hwanwoong mumbles, cuddling a pillow on the floor. He's Keonhee's best friend, his platonic conjoined twin; he's a professional dancer, he speaks slowly, he's over all the time, almost a third roommate. 

Chanhee likes him, has gotten used to him. 

Maybe too used to him, because Hwanwoong definitely was not there when Chanhee fell asleep the night before, yet he doesn't even blink at the short figure sprawled clumsily across his carpet. He gets up, nudges Hwanwoong with his feet and heads to the kitchen, craving caffeine so badly.

"He called me a couple hours after you arrived," Keonhee explains, unprompted, as he puts their plates on the table and hands Chanhee a steaming hot coffee mug. It all smells so good - he barely waits for his roommate to sit down before he digs in. 

"What happened?" Chanhee asks after properly chewing his food, because he's not a caveman. 

Keonhee snorts. "I didn't get all the details right, because he was wasted, but apparently he went to a party and this man wanted to go home with him and he didn't want to so he got into an Uber and gave him our address because he couldn't find his keys." 

"Shit, did he lose them?" Chanhee stares at Hwanwoong, unmoving, deep in drunken slumber. 

"Nah, they were there, I checked," Keonhee takes a bite of his scrambled eggs and makes a satisfied noise. "Seriously, this is so good. How come I always outdo myself?" 

"It tastes great, love," Chanhee concedes. "But let's get back to this for a second. He was too drunk to find his keys, but not too drunk to remember our address _and_ your number?" 

"I'm his emergency contact precisely for moments like these. Plus, there's a lot of shit inside his backpack, so it's understandable," Keonhee frowns. "That's a bit of a problem, don't you think? Should we send him to that program, what's it called? The one with the hoarders?" 

Chanhee chuckles. "Um, _Hoarders_?" 

"Yeah, that," Keonhee points at him with his fork. "Our address must be saved on his app, or something. So, yeah, cue me getting up at ass o'clock in the morning to bring him upstairs. I was gonna put him to bed but he just laid on the carpet and refused to get up." 

"Fucking midget," Chanhee mutters, not an ounce of malice on his tone. "Getting too comfortable." 

"I know I already asked you this a thousand times but," Keonhee takes a sip of coffee before continuing. "Does it bother you? Him being around all the time?" 

Chanhee shakes his head. "It's cute that you guys are close, and he's less annoying than you, so. Fine with me." 

Keonhee flips him off. Chanhee laughs and the rest of their breakfast is spent in comfortable silence. 

Chanhee has a good life, he concludes while doing the dishes. He has a decent support system, nice grades, promising career prospects, a warm home, a pleasant enough workplace. He should be satisfied: he had none of these things growing up, and at his big age he’s realizing they matter, and having them now makes him happy. He’s not, in any way, unhappy, or lacking in satisfaction with his life. 

There’s something missing, however. Something he isn’t able to put his finger on, but is not enough of a problem to bother him amidst the chaotic hustle he goes through every day. He doesn’t mind being busy either, doesn’t mind only having time to truly treat himself once a week, he’s been doing this ever since he was in diapers. No, that’s not the matter at hand.

 _I’m his emergency contact precisely for moments like these_. 

Chanhee unlocks his phone. His emergency contact is his mother. 

They don't have much of a close relationship: there's love in there, sure, but it's clouded by tension and unsaid words. She resents him for not being what she wanted in a son - a lawyer or a doctor, able to make money and marry a pretty girl and give her nice, well-mannered grandchildren. He resents her for not being what he wanted for a mother - someone who would support and love him unconditionally. When Chanhee left the house, she made him put her number there in case something happened, so he knows she cares. They just get along better with distance between them. 

That's not the case with Hwanwoong and Keonhee, of course. Chanhee was worried, at first, because the rational pessimist in him sees two people who willingly spend most of their time together and thinks codependency. Thinks they've been cultivating this intense, unhealthy yearning for each other's presences ever since middle school, and are going to flip if they ever needed to be apart. 

He was wrong. It pains him to admit. 

Because they _are_ apart, most of the time. Hwanwoong teaches dance to little children, having graduated from one of the best art schools in the country, while Keonhee is studying hard in college to become a social worker. They have their fixed little squad from their school days, but otherwise they run in completely separate social circles. It's not like they _have_ to be together, and can only enjoy themselves when they're together - it's more like they love each other and _choose_ to spend time together as much as they can. Hwanwoong sleeps over during the weekends unless he has other plans, and on most days they find things to do around the house, like binging historical dramas or trying to cook unusual recipes. When Chanhee has free time or is in the mood for human interactions, he joins them and it’s fun. 

There are moments Chanhee isn’t privy to, however. Moments he can’t be a part of, and those are way more intricate and complicated than they seem to be. 

Like when it’s a Friday, and Chanhee takes a little more time to get ready, because he’s going to a bar on a weekend, even if it’s for work, and it’s one of those days where empty compliments from drunken strangers could make him feel better about existing. And then he’s about to leave and he sees them on the couch, Keonhee typing something on his notebook and Hwanwoong leaning against him, remote control on one hand, channel surfing until he sees there’s a Property Brothers marathon airing. 

“They’re cute, aren’t they,” Hwanwoong nods towards the TV screen. “You think they like men?” 

Keonhee doesn’t look away from his notebook. “You have a serious white boy problem.” 

Hwanwoong scoffs, faking offense. “I absolutely do not.” 

They start arguing. It’s a stupid, meaningless argument that leads them to their own separate universe and by the end of it they’re cackling, loud and ringing through the apartment. Chanhee is standing in the middle of the hallway, unlocking the door, about to leave, and they don’t even notice he’s there.

Whenever he sees them like this, too wrapped up on each other to catch up with the outside world, he feels that... That something missing, tugging at his heartstrings. 

Chanhee’s clearly been watching too much Grey’s Anatomy, starting to become obsessed with the concept of having a _person,_ a soulmate, platonic or otherwise. Having someone who knows you inside out, having someone who’s your emergency contact, who’s the first person you think of when you’re drunk off your ass and need to crash somewhere. He feels like a baby — he has everything he’s wanted for himself when he was younger, and now he’s carrying this childish, unrealistic hope to get something more. 

Not everyone has a person. Maybe Chanhee doesn’t have one, and that’s alright. 

“I wanna die,” Hwanwoong whines, a couple hours later, as soon as he’s awake. “My head hurts.” 

Keonhee hands him a glass of water. “Get over yourself. The Dance Mom kids aren’t gonna teach themselves.” 

“Stop talking shit about my kids,” Hwanwoong retorts, defensive. “They’re nice kids.” 

Keonhee hums, skeptical. 

Chanhee heats up his lunch — it’s lasagna! he loves lasagna! — and thinks of nothing. He’ll be fine.

… 

Changmin has a good memory. 

And that’s an euphemistic way of saying he tends to his grudges like they’re babies. If you wrong him, he’ll remember and hold it against you for the rest of your life unless you do something outstanding to redeem yourself. His therapist tells him it isn’t healthy, that holding onto bad feelings harms him more than harms other people, but Changmin likes seeing it as holding people accountable for their mistakes. By choosing to forgive and forget, he’ll allow them to escape unscathed and that he cannot do. You hurt him, you get hurt back. It’s only fair. 

So, he remembers things, and good ones just as often as the bad ones. He remembers when he won a scholarship for a very prestigious dance school: his sisters took him out to dinner to celebrate in a fairly expensive restaurant. He remembers when he first performed a solo in front of the whole class, and this pretty boy with wide eyes and bright red hair told him his dancing looked like magic. He remembers when this guy from Tinder dumped him for being "too intense" — good riddance, really, because he was an asshole who only stuck around for easy sex, but what he said stayed inside Changmin's psyche. He thinks about it more than he should in moments where he feels particularly furious. 

Like right now. 

He's at the mall, because the mall is close to the dance school he attends, and there's a Starbucks there, and he'd kill for an Iced Americano after the day he's just had. He's also at the mall because Younghoon's boyfriend works at the mall and Younghoon wanted him to bring him lunch. He'll order takeout and pretend he cooked the meal himself to impress the dude, since it's a fairly new relationship and he's still trying to enhance his domestic charms. 

Changmin would know. They were an item, once, him and Younghoon. It's a long story, one that's not worth telling now. What's important is that they're good, close friends despite that, and Changmin needs a familiar, trusted face to tell him he's not being _too intense_ or whatever. 

"Changminnie!" Younghoon sits by his side at the table, grins brightly, a milkshake in his hands. Changmin returns the smile, albeit his version is more strained. "Hey. How's Youngkyun?" 

"He's amazing," Younghoon replies, mellow. "He looked so good, no one should be allowed to look that good when working. I really think he’s the one, Changmin.” 

Changmin chuckles. “I’m sure he’s great, but I’ve heard that before.” 

“I mean it, this time,” Younghoon says, face very serious. “He looked so happy when I came over, happier than my mom was when she gave birth to me. I didn’t even lie about takeout!” 

Changmin raises his eyebrows, legitimately surprised. "Really?" 

Younghoon nods, looking proud of himself. "He _asked_ , he looked deep inside my eyes and _asked_ if I cooked it myself and I said _no, I’m actually terrible at cooking_. He really values trust and I want him to trust me, so." 

“Wow,” Changmin breathes out, something dangerously melancholic seeping into his voice. “You’re actually in love with him.” 

Younghoon had lied to Changmin about takeout, back then. It shouldn’t matter. 

_Too intense_. 

Younghoon catches up to the change in the atmosphere and clears his throat. “Anyways, we’re not here to talk about my boyfriend, are we? Tell me what’s going on with you.” 

Changmin does that. 

Here's what his current conundrum is about: his modern dance teacher loves him, and she's not subtle about it. She compliments him extensively on his floorwork, on his improvisation abilities, on his commitment to learning different techniques. For this semester, she split the class in three groups and gave each of them a choreography video to emulate in a presentation that would happen in three weeks. Although she said she wasn't going to assign each group a leader and that would be up to them, she heavily hinted Changmin's group should pick him, because he has less ego and more discipline. 

What she doesn't know is that Changmin puts in the effort because he has a hard time keeping up with his classmates, never having had any formal training in dance before getting admitted, and this isn't his usual style. He leans more towards hip-hop, he can't wait to have contemporary and, weirdly enough, there's something soothing and reliable about the strictness of ballet. However, he works hard to be at least decent in every dance genre, and his teacher sees it in him. 

So now he's the leader of his group and it's stressful. 

His classmates are, for the most part, trust fund kids between the ages of sixteen and twenty. They came to the academy straight out of high school, or some of them haven't even graduated yet, and they've been training to be competitive dancers since they were toddlers, probably. 

Changmin, on the other hand, is twenty-two, the oldest person in his class, and everything he's learned about dance thus far was through YouTube. His family couldn't afford really investing in his future as a dancer, regardless of how passionate he was about it, how it had sometimes felt like it was the only thing keeping his hope alive. He's heard about the scholarship opportunity from Younghoon, and he sent in his admission tape without much hope. Changmin gave it his all, recorded the most intricate, detailed, harsh routine he's ever danced, but he didn't have the qualifications to make it into such an elite place. 

Except he got the call. It was the happiest day of his life, when he realized being ambitious and shooting for the stars pays off, sometimes. 

Still, he's starkly different from the other students, and trying to get them to focus on the assignment has been hellish. 

"If it wasn't for Sunwoo, I would've straight up killed somebody," Changmin admits. Sunwoo is a member of his group, thank goodness, and one of the few people there who seem to truly respect Changmin. They've been growing closer during rehearsals, and Sunwoo's fiery determination and warm support has lessened Changmin's burdens considerably. 

"The kid who has a crush on you," Younghoon quips, taking a small bite off one of the pastries he's bought for them. 

Changmin rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "He was being kind, hyung, without any ulterior motives. People do that.” 

"Sure," Younghoon says, smirking "So, you're stuck in this group project with a bunch of spoiled teens and there's a lot of expectation for you to do well, because your teacher loves you. And you're upset.” 

"Understatement of the year," Changmin replies, taking a sip of his Americano. "They were so terrible during rehearsal today. They weren't paying attention, half of them didn't know the proper choreo and one of them missed rehearsal to go to a _birthday party_. Can you believe that?" 

"Must be tough," Younghoon pats his head gently, his touch featherlight. "Your grades have to be high for you to keep your scholarship, right?" 

"Yeah," Changmin sighs, leans against Younghoon's shoulders for comfort. "Everyone else doesn't have to worry about failing because their daddies are still paying for them to be there. If _I_ lose my scholarship, I'm fucking done for. And if I waste such a good opportunity because of some snotty, bratty motherfuckers, I'm gonna be so pissed. At them and at myself." 

Changmin can't help but think about the worst case scenario in every situation. Call it being prepared for all outcomes or simply paranoia, it's what he does, and it's what he's doing now, in the middle of this Starbucks. 

If he performs badly, he'll likely have to kiss the dance school goodbye. There's a chance his teacher will make their next assignment be theoretical instead of practical, or have him do a solo instead of a group performance. Maybe she'll pair them up in duos and he'll get to perform with Sunwoo and they'll execute excellent choreography and save Changmin's career as a dancer. However, if that doesn't happen, he'll lose his scholarship and the monthly fee is way too expensive for him to even consider paying. 

His sisters own a flower shop, for fuck's sake. They earn enough to make a living, alright, and their situation isn't nearly as dire as it used to be years ago, but still not enough. Even if Changmin worked twice as hard, walked his neighbors' fussy pets or watched his cousin's children, even if he started working at the gas station or at the pizza place or worked more hours at the flower shop, he wouldn't be able to pay for his dream. 

This is a golden opportunity. He can't let it slip away from his fingers. He can't. 

"You'll do well, Changminnie," Younghoon says, softly. "You always do." 

He sounds so _sure_ , so sweet and earnest, Changmin wills himself to believe it. He might consider the worst case scenarios far too much, but at the end of the day he'd rather think positive, put out good energy into the universe. If he doesn't have hope, he has nothing. 

"Yeah," Changmin whispers, to no one in particular. "It'll be fine."

…

In his daily life, Kevin sees an almost overwhelming amount of small dogs.

You see, despite working a minimum wage job, Kevin lives in a fancy apartment complex. He used to live with his parents in a less fancy but still reasonably comfortable apartment complex, until his uncle told him he was going to move to a house in the countryside with his partner and their old place was going to be empty. Kevin really likes his uncle - they bonded over their shared experiences with their sexuality and their shared distaste for their family's passive aggressive antics.

Kevin moves out, not without an earful from his parents, and his uncle insists on paying rent. The man is a retired plastic surgeon, probably has too much money laying around, so Kevin doesn't fight him on this. He finds it hard making friends in the neighborhood, though, because most of the people he bumps into are over 80, and not very nice. Most of them own small dogs, chihuahuas or yorkshires or shihtzus.

The only person Kevin is on friendly terms with in his entire building is Dongju — he’s a Literature major, who shares Kevin’s love for musicals and has impressive makeup abilities. They don’t have enough in common to bond in an usual setting, but they’re stuck in a place full of old bigots, so they grow closer than they would in more normal circumstances.

Dongju has a friend who lives across the street and his friend also has a small dog. Kevin doesn’t quite remember the man’s name, yet he does know the dog is named Sunny, because Dongju might like him more than he likes anyone in his life, past and present. He’s walking him around the park and Kevin joins him on a feeble attempt to be more active. They’re debating on whether buying clothing for animals is a justifiable expense or not when Kevin’s phone buzzes.

It's weird, because no one ever calls him — he's morally against calls, thinks they're less practical and more awkward than texts, plus he sounds weird on the phone, and he tells this to every single person he knows.

It's Jacob calling, though, so Kevin has to pick up. "What's up?"

"Hello to you too!" Jacob cheerily greets him. "I have amazing news!"

Kevin is taken aback but keeps walking, aware that Sunny gets very restless when his weekly park time is interrupted. _Short and spunky_ is a stereotype commonly applied to humans but little do people know, it fits tiny dogs just as well. "Elaborate."

"So, I have this friend who owns a bar," Jacob starts, sounding excited. "And there was this girl, this singer, who was his fixed entertainer. He sometimes hires different people to play there at weekends or throws karaoke nights but she's the one who usually steps up to the plate. Except she's auditioned to a TV show and passed so now he doesn't have a singer and he called me, asking if I could come and fill her spot. He's paying more than I'm used to making at Porcupine and I'll work less, so I told him I'd accept the gig under one condition."

"Congratulations, dude," Kevin says, sincerely, except it is bittersweet, like you're in college and seeing someone who got in at the same time as you graduate first. "What condition?"

"You'd come with me," Jacob says, and you can tell by his voice he's grinning. "I showed him a video of you playing and he agreed, like, immediately, because he's not stupid. You'll still have to go there for an interview, but it's more of a formality than anything. Just don't expose any grave personality flaws and you'll be fine."

"Holy shit, Jacob," Kevin swears, runs a hand through his hair. He comes to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk and Dongju shoots him a puzzled look. _Later_ , Kevin mouths as Sunny busies himself trying to hump a tree. "When's the interview?"

"This Friday," there's a loud thumping noise in the background and Jacob lets out a small noise of surprise. "Fuck, sorry, my neighbor's cat is obsessed with me, apparently. Anyways, I'm sorry it's on such short notice, it's just that he's in a hurry and I start on Friday so I thought you'd maybe wanna see me there after you were done? Give a friend some support?"

"Of course, man," Kevin breathes out, still in disbelief "You just saved my life. You broke the curse."

"You'll quit, then?" Jacob asks, softly.

Kevin snorts. "You bet your ass I'll quit. How's it gonna work, though? Like, what's the schedule like?"

Jacob giggles. "They only have live music from Thursday to Sunday, so I was thinking I get Fridays and Sundays while you get Saturdays and Thursdays. We'll start at around eight and end around two in the morning. Sangyeon usually lets the singers go earlier than that, though. The only rules are not drinking on the job and trying to be mindful of the amount of breaks we take, I guess."

"Copy that," Kevin says. He sits on a bench, trying to absorb the news, and Dongju sits by his side. Sunny starts jumping on his lap and barking, tired of bothering other dogs or peeing in bushes. "Anything else?"

"Not that I know of, no," Jacob replies "Kev, this really seems like a healthier work environment, and you'll be able to make your dreams come true while doing something you like, for a change. I know it's not the stadium we've been daydreaming about, but it's a step up, isn't it?"

"Jacob," Kevin warns, feeling warmth spreading through his chest, threatening to close his throat "You'll make me cry in public. I'm walking Sunny."

" _I'm_ walking Sunny," Dongju replies, in perfect English. Kevin is, despite himself, impressed. 

"Speaking of animals, I've gotta feed the cat. If you can't beat them, join them," Jacob sighs, fondness clear on his tone despite not being a cat person in the slightest. That's him — unnecessarily kind to every living being under the sun "See you Friday?"

"See ya," Kevin answers "Thank you for that, man. No matter what happens, I really appreciate you believing in me."

"Anytime," Jacob whispers and ends the call.

Dongju nudges him in the shoulder. "What was that about?"

Kevin's smile blooms on his face, unrestrained. "Can we go to Porcupine after this? I think I'm gonna quit my job."

…

Juyeon, disregarding his cautiously low expectations, found himself bonding with his date.

Sihyeon is pretty, is the first thing he's found out. She has long, smooth black hair that almost reaches her waist, and she dyed the tips of a shade between pink and red — it was supposed to be red, she told him, but then it faded. Juyeon assures her, with certain reluctance, that it looks good anyway. He doesn't want to compliment her too much in case it comes off as flirty, because he does not want to pursue a romantic connection and he's only texted her before the date out of politeness, really. She texts him and he answers.

Sihyeon cooks, is the second thing he finds out. She makes Juyeon promise to make her one of his famous white cream tteokbokkis one day, and they exchange recipes and struggles of making their food, especially while their roommates have a big appetite. They're quite similar, sharing hobbies beyond their love for cooking. They're both in Law school despite not being particularly passionate about the field, and they both take dance classes at the gym for fun.

They decide they'll meet for drinks at a bar close to the real estate company Sihyeon works for, on a Friday night, at 8pm.

Juyeon has a game plan — he will dress to not impress, dark jeans and a black, generic T-shirt, bare faced. He'll style his hair nicely and make sure it's one of his nicer jeans, because he's not a complete slob, but he won't make any efforts to look better than he usually does. He'll steer every conversation they have to a platonic territory, and if she tries to make a move on him he'll politely explain that he found out he's not ready to start dating yet. Maybe, if she reacts well, he'll ask if they could be friends instead. He did enjoy talking to her.

Haknyeon isn't home to judge him for his lackluster styling choices, and Jaehyun is in too much of a university-induced depressive crisis to care. He's wrapped in a blanket cocoon, eating chocolate ice cream and shedding tears to a heartwrenching episode of _The World of the Married_.

"Don't tell anyone," Jaehyun sniffs.

Juyeon smiles thinly. He sucks at pretending he's not worried about Jaehyun's mental health, about the amount of pressure he's going through in his last year of college. Juyeon sits at the other side of the couch, doesn't know what to do with his hands. "I could stay here if you want company, hyung. We'll do something together, help you relax. Sihyeon will get it."

"No, don't worry," Jaehyun puts a hand on Juyeon's knee, his gaze kind "I'm fine, I go through this every time. I'll watch a couple more episodes and go to sleep. Go, your date must be waiting."

Juyeon nods. "Okay. If you need anything, call me?"

"Obviously," Jaehyun scoffs "You think I'm calling Haknyeon?"

"Harsh," Juyeon says, out of habit, although he's aware that when Haknyeon leaves the house on weekends, he rarely does so with the intention to behave, and he pays little to no attention to his phone. "Alright, I'm going now. There's black bean noodles in the fridge, enough for the two of you."

"You do know two servings aren't enough for Hak," Jaehyun points out, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Juyeon freezes at the doorway. He hadn't thought of that. "Should I make more before I leave?"

"I'm teasing you, Juyeonie. I'm not hungry, I'm literally eating enough ice cream for a lifetime," Jaehyun cackles when Juyeon reaches for the couch and throws a pillow at him "I love you! Have fun!"

He takes the subway, the arguably faster route to reach his destination, and allows the ruckus of public transportation to act as a soothing balm for his worries. In the grand scheme of things, this little date means nothing. He hasn't bonded with Sihyeon enough to miss her if she decides to cut ties with him and, despite his meddling, Haknyeon only has Juyeon's best interests in mind, so he won't be mad if things go wrong.

Juyeon finds the bar easily, a neon sign that reads _Insanity_ glows in purple hues. He reminds himself to focus more on his English classes, because he can't for the life of him figure out what that word means in Korean. One of the waiters leads him to an empty table for two — he says his name is Seungyeon, he has platinum blonde hair almost reaching his shoulders, which makes Juyeon admire this place for not being too uptight with dress codes. Although he prefers to keep his style simple, he doesn't think someone having tattoos or piercings or flashy hair colors means they're not good at their job. It's a stylistic choice only.

"Are you going to order?" Seungyeon asks, bringing Juyeon out of his thoughts.

He shakes his head. "I'll wait for my date, thank you."

"If you need anything, let us know," Seungyeon bows slightly and goes back to serving the other tables.

Juyeon texts Sihyeon, spends several minutes trying to decide if he should or shouldn't put a thinking emoji after his message that reads _Where are you?._ His friends warned him about how much of a dry texter he could be, and even though he was trying hard not to impress Sihyeon, he couldn't have her thinking he was an asshole, either.

So he sends the emoji and waits. Thankfully, there's a live singer to distract him from the overthinking going on inside his head. The man is good-looking, with light brown hair brushed to the side, a very boy-next-door aura about him, and when he opened his mouth to sing, Juyeon recognized the song as Breath by Sam Kim. The singer has a nice, soft voice, and he knows how to endear the crowd, sending them warm smiles and generally having fun while performing.

Juyeon stares at his phone. It's been twenty minutes — no texts from Sihyeon. If she got stuck at work for some reason, why couldn't she text him warning him she'd be late? He looks around, tells himself no one is paying attention to the fact he's sitting alone at a table for two like a complete idiot, and waits until the singer finishes his song to call Seungyeon.

"Can I have a glass of water?" Juyeon asks, trying to be polite despite his growing unease.

Seungyeon nods. "Anything else? We're having a fried chicken and beer discount today."

"Just water, for now," Juyeon smiles without showing his teeth, awkward, embarrassed.

Seungyeon gives him a glance heavy with badly concealed pity before doing what he was told. Juyeon follows him with his eyes, bored, and his gaze stops on the bartender that's currently pouring him a glass of water. They're standing far from each other so Juyeon can't tell much details of his face, but he notices the bartender's pastel pink hair and his black vest and narrow waist. Juyeon doesn't pay much attention to boys beyond pure aesthetically driven appreciation, dry acknowledgements that _yeah, he's handsome_ , but he has to admit the man's pretty enough to do a double take, even from a distance. Juyeon looks away before he gets caught staring.

It's been thirty minutes. Sihyeon is nowhere to be found.

He sends her a text with a single question mark and sends Jaehyun a text saying _I think I got stood up_.

Seungyeon walks up to him with his glass of water and Juyeon thanks him. Jaehyun sends a text back, _she's not there yet????_

 _No_ , Juyeon replies, _should I just leave?_

 _NO WAY,_ the following message from Jaehyun reads, and Juyeon can almost hear his voice through the screen.

_you're at a BAR! try to socialize!! make friends!! hit on someone!!!!_

Juyeon scoffs. _Am I supposed to start conversations with people out of nowhere?_

 _YESSSSSS_ , Jaehyun answers, as if he would've done this had their situations been reversed, _it'll be a wasted trip otherwise_ , he continues to argue. That's a good point. Juyeon got out of the house for this, didn't he? There's nice music here, nice food and alcohol enough to push his general shyness to the backburner for a while. He was stood up by a date he didn't even want in the first place, things could've been worse.

With his mind made up, he stands up and sits on one of the stools around the bar. The bartender looks at him, raises his eyebrows ever so subtly. Juyeon deeply regrets not bothering with his appearance today.

"Um, can I have a gin and tonic?" he blurts out, trying not to wince at how loud the question comes out. He's bad at talking to people when there's music in the background, even if it's the live singer's calm rendition of Lost Stars.

"Sure," the bartender says, his voice soft. He's even better looking up close, with a delicate nose and plump lips and silver glitter sparkling on his cheeks. He looks dainty yet sharp — beautiful, yet carrying such an intimidating aura around him Juyeon finds it hard to keep his cool. "What's your name?"

"Juyeon," he answers, takes a sip of his drink "What's yours?"

The bartender doesn't answer right away, he takes his time pouring colorful drinks to the already tipsy girls sitting at the table nearby. "I'm Chanhee. Are you here by yourself?"

Juyeon doesn't consider himself someone who's nervous around his peers. He's a bit stiff, if anything, unaware of some social cues that other people deemed important, but he's never had such a palms sweating, cheeks reddening reaction to anyone. Maybe Haknyeon is right and he really needed to get out of the house. "Yeah. I was supposed to come here on a date but, um, it didn't work out. She stood me up, I think."

"I'm sorry," Chanhee says, and he does sound apologetic "That's shitty. How long have you waited for?"

"It's been almost an hour now," Juyeon takes another sip of his drink, hoping he'll feel less self-conscious by the time he empties the glass.

Chanhee frowns. "Are you going home, then?"

"No," Juyeon replies, smiling wryly "I'm not hoping she'll show up but I'm already here, right? I might as well stay and enjoy myself."

"I'd strongly advise that," Chanhee says kindly "Friday nights are our most hectic. Stick around, who knows what might happen?"

As if on cue, someone plops onto the stool next to Juyeon. It's a man, dark red hair and round eyes with dark circles around them. He looks charming, but utterly miserable, and looks at the bottles behind Chanhee like a man on a mission. "Hey. What's the strongest thing you guys have here?"

"Um," Chanhee replies, clearly taken aback "Depends on what you're looking for."

"I'm looking for death," the man replies. His voice is deeper than Chanhee's, his hair cut shorter, something about his presence that's magnetic, regardless of how devastated he seems to be. "I wanna get so drunk I wake up tomorrow without remembering my name. What do you have for that?"

Chanhee laughs despite himself. He has a nice laugh. "I'll get you something."

Juyeon turns to the man, highly amused. "Rough day?"

"You have no idea," the man turns to Juyeon and grins, so large it threatens to swallow his small face, dimples on display "I'm Changmin."

"Juyeon," he introduces himself before taking another sip of his gin and tonic. "Nice to meet you."

Chanhee has found an ominous-looking bottle of tequila and is pouring it on a tiny cup. "Here's your poison, Changmin."

"Thank you so much," Changmin mumbles, his face turning serious. He drinks his shot, shooting his head back with the urgency of a man who has given up on life, and puts the tiny cup back on the counter. "One more, please?"

Juyeon's phone buzzes. He ignores it.

...

Changmin had expected this outcome.

He worked hard so it wouldn't become a reality, of course, because he hasn't spent a day in his life where he didn't give his all on everything he chooses to do. Still, he had expected this. He had expected the constant stress of leading a bunch of spoiled children would catch up to him. He had expected to fumble in the middle of the presentation, a small, subtle misstep he would've gotten away with, had he not been in a room full of trained dancers. He moves through his routine smoothly after that, yet there's something off with his delivery and he knows it. It's hard to keep the mood where it should be when all you can think of is your stupid, silly, elementary school dance class level mistake.

If he was doing a solo performance, he wouldn't be too screwed. He'd go harder on the following steps, make sure to compensate for his slip, make sure his teacher remembered why she chose to imprint on him in the first place. Because he's fucking good. He _is_. However, in a group performance, he has to worry about others, too, make sure his groupmates aren't overshadowed and their performance is cohesive as a group. Not only did he fail on his own, he might've contributed to lower grades for his groupmates. Although they did not make evident mistakes, his behavior threw them off, making them more stilted than they planned.

When the music stops, they exchange worried glances. Despite their different backgrounds, there's one thing they can agree on — this was not their best performance, by far.

Sunwoo holds his hand while they watch the other groups. That's all Changmin can absorb after he flunked, really, a warm weight on him, steadily comforting as people twirled in front of him, without tripping or stumbling. They're dismissed and Changmin tells himself he expected this, came up with a complete worst case scenario and prepared himself for failure.

Doesn't make him feel any less shitty. Huh. Maybe his therapist has a point, and none of his coping methods work as well as he thinks they do.

"This isn't the end, though," Sunwoo tells him when they're in the locker room, reassuring as always "Even if we were, um..."

"Fucking terrible?" Changmin suggests, unable to keep the poison off his voice. Sunwoo might be his friend, might have a heart too big for his body, but he's like them, so he doesn't understand what's at stake for Changmin here.

Sunwoo winces. "Yeah. Even if we were that, this assignment was only half of our grade! We don't have to worry until there's something to worry about. This isn't the end of the road for you, hyung. I know this."

"How are you so sure?" Changmin asks, his voice breaking. Something glum and hopeless crawls its way into his throat, choking him.

"Because you're not the one who's magical," Sunwoo boops his nose, gives him a tentative, silly smile. "I'm psychic. I've seen your future, and it's something major."

Changmin laughs, the sadness pulling him downwards giving way for something warmer. "You're so dumb."

"You can be a non-believer, it's fine. Means my secret's safe," Sunwoo opens his mouth to say something else but his phone starts ringing and he sighs when he sees the caller's ID. "God, it's my mom. We're supposed to go for dinner with some of dad's business partners and she wants the whole family there."

Changmin rolls his eyes. " _Rich people_."

"Right," Sunwoo doesn't even pick up the call, instead keeps his gaze focused on Changmin "I gotta go, I think. Are you going somewhere now?"

"Just home," Changmin says, wipes tears off his eyes with the back of his hands. He didn't even feel himself starting crying. It's all pouring out of him now, though, too strong for him to stop or pretend "Cry a little more on one of my sisters' laps. See you Monday?"

Sunwoo winks at him before bolting out of the door.

Changmin doesn't go home.

Instead, he sobs while riding the bus, listening to the saddest IU songs he can find on his playlist, and finds himself at a bar he's never been to before.

He doesn't want to bother Sunwoo, Younghoon or his sisters with fruitless worries. His intentions walking into this place, however, are quite simple: he wants to drink until he dies. Or passes out. Whatever comes first, whatever puts him out of his misery. 

There's a pink haired bartender who's serving him tequila shots so strong it should be criminal, painfully judgy and unsettlingly pretty. There's a tall, so-hot-it's-unreal man sitting next to him, with small eyes and large hands, sipping on a gin and tonic like someone who doesn't want to die. Good for him.

Changmin tells them both about his tales of woe, of bombing and risking getting kicked out of dance school.

"That school is so hard to enter, though," Juyeon — sweet, sweet Juyeon, who got stood up by his stupid date — argues. "And you did that without any formal training. That's, like, super impressive, isn't it?"

"It actually is," Chanhee admits, pouring a fruity cocktail for an old lady sitting at the other side of the bar. "There you go, ma'am."

In the hour Changmin's been here, he's developed an interesting rapport with Chanhee where they pretend to hate each other. It's all pretend, because Changmin's a paying customer and Chanhee's on the clock, meaning he can't be outright rude to him without risking his job. It's all pretend, because sometimes Changmin stares at Chanhee and he stares back and they exchange teasing smiles and the air between them seems to spark.

With Juyeon, on the other hand, subtleties don't work.

He's a smart guy, so he catches them, notices there's something wrong, something he's missing, but doesn't know what to do with the information he acquires. Changmin flirts with him, with fleeting touches and batting eyelashes and tilting his head to the side while smiling, in all the tentative ways he knows it works, and all Juyeon does is take a nervous gulp of his drink and change the subject. He's either super straight or super oblivious.

Changmin shall find out what's the right option until the end of the night — his coping methods are watching horror movies until he forgets he has emotions, drinking alcohol until he forgets he has emotions and making out with attractive people until he forgets he has emotions. He will do one of these before the night ends, or his name isn't Ji Changmin.

So he keeps the conversation going. "That's flattering, you guys, but kind of irrelevant. Doesn't matter if I'm a dance genius, I'm still way behind the rich dance geniuses and I still need to get at least a seven to pass, so."

"Didn't you say there's still an assignment left?" Chanhee raises a logical point.

Of course he does. What a killjoy! "You're right," Changmin concedes, too tired to make an argument about how he's a fuck up who does nothing right no matter how hard he tries and he'll find a way to screw up the next assignment too "I'll find a way. Sorry for bringing the mood down."

"I asked about your day," Juyeon says, understanding. "You answered. No harm done."

"Plus, I'm working, so my mood is always down," Chanhee quips while washing dishes. He's smiling, though, so maybe he doesn't mean that.

Changmin wants to kiss them so bad. Both of them. Either. He doesn't care.

Before he can bring up another topic of discussion or ask for another shot, someone sits by his side, glasses perched on the tip of his nose, carrying a folder on his hands. "Excuse me, can I get something to drink?"

"Of course," Chanhee says, turning on his customer service mode "What would you like to have?"

The guy's cute, Changmin notices. His hair is on the longer side, jet black and wavy, and he's dressed fancy, a button down and slacks, as if he's just got out of a business meeting or a job interview. He fumbles on his seat, nervous in the way people must feel around Chanhee. "What's the strongest thing you have here?" he asks, a boxy smile blooming on his face.

Changmin grins like a madman.

...

Choi Chanhee is a professional.

Keonhee asked him, more than once, if he had ever slept with a customer, and the answer has always been no. He doesn't think mixing work and pleasure is smart, and he keeps the boundaries between him and the people he serves very solid. He puts up a wall, unattainable enough to intimidate people and polite enough for wealthy moms to not threaten calling his manager. He might indulge in flirting when a particularly tempting offer comes up, but he never lets it go past charged glances and a cheeky back-and-forth.

Today, though... Today is being _hard_.

There's Juyeon, who clearly hadn't bothered to dress up for his date yet looked stunning regardless. Chanhee was surprised he was doing pre-law instead of modeling. Juyeon says he dates girls exclusively, at least until this point of his life, yet he keeps checking Chanhee out when he thinks no one's looking. Chanhee likes saying he's above straight boy drama, doesn't know what the hype is all about, but he's lying to himself if he says he wouldn't like to manhandle this tall pretty boy out of the closet.

However, he'd have to go out of his way to pursue Juyeon directly and Chanhee would've accepted the challenge if he wasn't working, so while it's a pleasant possibility, it's not tempting. He doesn't like making the first move, putting himself on the line to be rejected.

Which brings him to Changmin. Changmin, who came straight to the bar after dance school to drink his troubles away. Changmin and his short red hair, his smart mouth, his forced cheerfulness to avoid wallowing in misery, his quips, the way he has an answer on the tip of his tongue to whatever Chanhee throws his way. Changmin knows how to play the game and he plays it well and in a few hours he'll be asking, a cheeky smirk on his lips, when does Chanhee get out of his shift.

And God, now there's Kevin. His future coworker, Kevin Moon. Where Juyeon is amusing and Changmin is enticing, Kevin is _dreamy_. He has been working minimum wage jobs to afford his music therapy course, for fuck's sake. He wants to teach little kids how to play the guitar and help them deal with their troubles for a living — or whatever it is that music therapists do, Chanhee doesn't quite know, he's a mathematician —, which is super sweet. Kevin is endearing, polite, funny in a quirky, borderline awkward way. He knows how the game works too, Chanhee could tell, but he opts out of it. He chooses not to play yet people are drawn to him regardless, so he must have some knowledge on how to navigate these things.

Courting, flirting, kissing. These sorts of things.

"Chanhee?" Kevin calls him, brows furrowed.

He has _amazing_ eyebrows. Chanhee blinks. "Huh? What?"

"You've been drying this cup for, like, ten minutes now," Changmin teases, smirking. "People are waiting for their drinks, you know."

"I was thinking. Ever heard of that?" Chanhee replies, keeping his tone even, and Juyeon snorts. "Anyways. Were you saying something?"

Kevin snorts, seemingly amused. "Yeah. I was talking about how my old boss sucked and I asked you if Sangyeon is as nice as he looks like he is."

"No boss is as nice as they look like," Chanhee shares his working class wisdom, walking closer to the counter. There's no one around other than the three of them so he can join in the conversation "As far as bosses go, though, he's fine. Respectful, flexible, understanding. Hot, but don't ever tell him that. Straight men are insufferable when their egos are inflated. No offense, Juyeon."

"None taken," Juyeon answers, bemused. He sounds slightly breathless, too, although that could be Chanhee's wishful thinking.

"Well, at least you don't work with your family," Changmin chimes in. Right, he works in a flower shop with his sisters. Chanhee thinks it's cute. 

"Wouldn't it be more practical?" Kevin asks. "If you have a good relationship with your family."

"Having a good relationship with your family is a myth," Changmin punctuates his bold statement with another shot of the gross tequila. Kevin's asked for that, too, except he couldn't handle how bitter it was and asked for a strawberry cocktail instead.

Juyeon makes a face. "I like my family."

"I like my family too, Juyeonie," Changmin squeezes one of Juyeon's hands lightly and smiles, the _bastard_. "Love them, actually. They're very good for me. What I meant is that every family has issues. We can't cut ties with family members the way we do with people we're not related by blood, so a lot of resentment builds up. Always. Family business is complicated too, because things can get personal. It's harder to take your boss being an inconsiderate asshole when your boss is your mom."

"Ah, I see," Juyeon replies, softly. He's getting tipsy already, Chanhee notices. "I don't feel like I resent anyone in my family and they don't resent me either, but there's... Not a lot of warmth, either."

"They have nothing to resent you for, to be fair," Kevin says. "You're about to become a lawyer and you're smart and kind and handsome. That's every middle class mom's wet dream." 

Changmin tries to muffle his giggle with a fake cough. Chanhee, on the other hand, promptly and genuinely chokes on his own saliva. Kevin seems to want the ground to swallow him whole. "Ugh, that came out weird, didn't it?" 

"Not at all. I love wet dreams," Changmin taunts, because of course he would. 

Kevin slaps him in the arm, biting back a smile. " _Menace_."

"Sorry, I'm a Scorpio!" Changmin raises his hands in fake surrender. "My mind lives in the gutter."

"I'm too sober to go through this," Kevin whines, turns on his stool to face Chanhee. "Can I get another one, babe?" The pet name slips out of his tongue, effortless and completely unintentional. His cheeks redden.

Chanhee had been wondering for the past hours about whether Kevin was interested in him or not, and he hadn't been able to reach a conclusion yet, but this... Chanhee can work with this. 

Fuck being professional. 

"Coming, love," Chanhee smirks and reaches for a vodka bottle on one of the shelves. Behind him, the sound of someone releasing their breath.

...

Kevin is _drunk_.

He didn't come here to get wasted. He came for an interview, and he was supposed to only have a drink to celebrate his new job. He wasn't supposed to stay, being teased by a dimpled dancer who made obscure innuendos about everything, accidentally flirting with a cute, snarky pink-haired bartender, ogling a most probably straight lawyer-to-be, too gullible and gentle to be a normal human being. He wasn't supposed to be feeling his affections pulled in three different directions. 

He was supposed to have a drink, watch Jacob's set and go home. Everything else was uncalled for. 

_Jacob_ , though. Jacob might help. He'll know what to do, he always has the best advice.

Kevin stands up and maybe he shouldn't have drunk for so long while sitting because he stumbles forward as soon as his feet touch the ground. Juyeon, who was just coming back from the bathroom, catches him, and Kevin holds onto Juyeon's arms for balance, feels muscle and warmth against his skin. 

"Shit," Kevin mumbles, except he doesn't move very much and Juyeon doesn't either. They stare at each other for a beat too long, Kevin's treacherous dumb brain hyperfocused on how close they are — Juyeon has very long lashes, he notices. "Sorry, dude."

"Are you okay?" Juyeon asks, worried. Maybe a little tipsy, too.

" _Kevin_!" Changmin shrieks, more than a little tipsy. "Are you drunk already?"

"Like you're one to talk!" Kevin retorts, finally getting his hands off Juyeon and recovering his balance "It's fine, I'm fine, I'm just going to talk to my friend?"

"Alright," Juyeon pats him on the back, awkward "You... go there."

Kevin goes there. Jacob is sitting on one of the tables near the windows, munching his way through a mouthful of noodles, tomato sauce on his cheek. Porcupine wouldn't allow him enough time to have dinner, Kevin recalls, so all he could eat throughout the night were small snacks such as chips or sandwiches. "Dude, I need help."

Jacob finishes chewing. "What's wrong?"

"I... might be a bit drunk," Kevin starts, not wanting to fully disclose how four fruity cocktails were way past his drinking limit "And I might... be engaging on flirty activity? Kind of?"

Jacob's eyebrows shoot up. "Oh, wow. _You_?"

"What does that even mean?" Kevin asks, his voice squeaky at the end of the sentence because really? Was this necessary?

"Not saying you're unattractive," Jacob clarifies, wiping sauce off the corner of his mouth. "I meant that you've been single ever since I've known you. You barely mention being interested in anyone, ever, so... But it's great that you're doing that! Why's it a problem? Why do you need help?"

Kevin sighs. It's a very nuanced, complicated story, one that could be summed up in a few sentences yet none would carry the weight of how truly conflicted he feels about it all.

He's a gay man raised in a very religious household, which is a classic. He believes in God, feels solace in praying and attending church and allowing divine faith to work its magic on people. He's a Pisces, a dreamer despite his feeble attempts of keeping his feet on the ground, and he seeks spiritual guidance when lost or confused. He's in a better place than he used to be, no longer under the impression God hates him, no longer going through denial of his own desires, and he's recently moved out, too. 

His parents had been unwillingly feeding into his Christian guilt for years, but even now, when they're physically distant and he’s not under their direct influence anymore, it still feels like shame is weaved into his personality. Into the core of who he is, stopping him from exploring his options and coming out of his shell. Which is... upsetting, to say the least. 

Besides, he's quite guarded, with his emotions. The idea of putting himself out there sounds too close to stripping bare, allowing people to see him vulnerable and hurt him. Not his idea of a good time. 

Had he been sober, he wouldn't say a word of these thoughts out loud. However...

"I've just moved out of my super Christian parents' house," Kevin shrugs, a short, simplified version of what's keeping him out of the loop. "I'm having my, um, my early adulthood arc? You know, the one that turns us all into _sluts_."

It's all pronounced in a jumbled, slightly slurred way, and Jacob giggles. "Go on."

Kevin's cheeks heat up. He has a nagging feeling he's being too obvious. "I went out with men before, you know. I'm not inexperienced, I think, but it's still all like... Whenever it happens, it's really nervewracking? I don't know what to do? And, um, I have to tell you something. A detail that's complicated. Promise you won't judge me?"

Jacob swallows his noodles with a slurp and flashes him a thumbs up.

"Gross," Kevin laughs, because he's an inebriated, anxious mess. "Okay, so, the thing is... I might be interested in... more than one person?"

"Early adulthood arc, indeed," Jacob punctuates the end of his sentence with a suggestive smirk and sip of orange juice. 

"Shut _up_ ," Kevin whines. "This isn't what this is. We're like... hitting on each other. Mostly. There's this guy who has no idea what's going on, it's super endearing."

"Kevin Moon," Jacob pronounces each syllable with unnecessary emphasis. "Are you on your way to a foursome?"

Kevin squeals. There's no other way of saying this. He squeals, out of sheer embarrassment, willing that mental image to get off his brain. "No! Isn't your brand to be _kind_? You're being very _unkind_ , riling me up like this."

"You're interrupting my dinner time," Jacob quips, sending a charming smile to a point behind Kevin. "Speaking of, Sangyeon's starting to give me concerned looks, so I should go. Do you have any song requests?"

"Do you know any Taeyeon songs?" Kevin asks, scratching the back of his head. "Chanhee really likes her."

Jacob gapes. "Chanhee? Is he one of...?"

"For the love of God, don't finish that sentence," Kevin sighs, runs a hand through his hair. "Yeah, he is. He's also been working for like, four hours now, so... Can you play it?"

"Sure thing," Jacob grins as he picks up his guitar "Be a little braver, Moon. Let the night take its course. Whatever happens, happens. I'll provide the romantic background music."

"This isn't what this is," Kevin croaks out, but it sounds weak even to his own ears. 

...

Juyeon calls Jaehyun from inside a bathroom stall. Not his brightest moment.

He finds out Sihyeon had texted him at around 10pm, saying she didn't message him because she had a family emergency and she's had to care for her grandma who tripped and fell. Juyeon's in a state of enhanced mental confusion, courtesy of the amount of alcohol he's ingested for the past hours, so he leaves her on read and promises himself he'll deal with it later.

He's no longer mad at her. He found company quicker than he would've imagined — which is, to be honest, an additional reason for his state of enhanced mental confusion. 

Earlier, Changmin made Juyeon a question about his sexuality. It was phrased innocently enough as he voiced the same question to both Kevin and Chanhee, and Juyeon gave them his default answer. He has little to no experience with dating outside of the trainwreck he had with Juhyun, but his past, more casual relationships had been with girls only, and he's never felt attracted to men before. Changmin says he'll kiss anyone he finds hot, Chanhee only likes men and Kevin says he does, too, but he's been with women before. 

This is all _fine_. Juyeon is used to being the only straight friend of his household, of his social circles at college, and he'd go far enough to describe himself as an ally. He thought this would be the end of it, because he's got blatant proposals from some of the hottest men he's ever seen, objectively, and rejected them. Men did nothing for him. No giddy thrills, no burning attraction, nothing.

Until today. 

"Juyeonie?" Jaehyun mumbles, sounding sleepy. "What happened?"

Juyeon takes a deep breath. "Does wanting to kiss a dude make you bisexual? Like, by default?"

"No, it doesn't work like that," Jaehyun's voice is colored by shock. "Why do you ask?"

Juyeon explains it to him, in the rushed, mumbled way drunk people explain things, but also in the thorough, detailed way _Juyeon_ explains things. 

He talks about meeting Chanhee for the first time, his ethereal beauty a punch in the gut for anyone with eyes, about how he seems so self-assured yet easy to tease, and how he smiles at Juyeon like they're sharing an inside joke everyone else's too stupid to understand. Chanhee's banter, the push-and-pull he has so much fun with maintaining, and his small acts of kindness seeping through the cracks.

He talks about Changmin, about how he has the weirdest line of thought yet explains it as if he's making perfect sense, and how he cackles when Juyeon asks him whether he really thinks the Earth is flat. Changmin and his dimples and his smile and his voice, when it drops an octave lower to make an innuendo that's both shameless and disturbing, and the ridiculous effect it has on Juyeon.

He talks about Kevin, about his long hair and his smooth skin and his criminally sharp jawline. Kevin, who makes wide gestures when he talks about something he's passionate about and looks adorable with glasses and phrases his sentences with care and loves music and sings beautifully. There's something about him, something about the easy, unspoken confidence he exudes, that's endearing, alluring, almost.

Juyeon hadn't felt like this while talking to Sihyeon. Hell, his first meeting with Juhyun wasn't as exciting as whatever it is that he’s doing now.

So.

" _Holy shit_ ," Jaehyun swears, still surprised. "Man, I did not see this coming."

"Neither did I," Juyeon confesses.

"Hey, calm down, it's okay," Jaehyun says, kind but also frantic. "Are you panicking?"

"I'm fine, hyung," Juyeon assures him. Maybe it's the gin and tonic making its effect and he'll freak out more when he wakes up tomorrow, but so far he's just trying to make sense of what this means. He likes having his labels set in stone, finds safety in being able to correctly pinpoint his emotions.

 _Half of the time, I don't even know what I'm feeling_ , Haknyeon told him, one day, elaborating upon his lack of ability to put his affections and grievances into words. 

Juyeon wouldn't bear living like this. "I just wanted advice, because this is a new thing and I don't know what to do. What to not do."

"Wow," Jaehyun breathes out. "I never thought I'd be giving you advice on men. Me, of all people."

Juyeon whines, impatient. "Hyung."

"Alright, um," Jaehyun begins, and he sounds way more alert than he's been all day. "They think you're straight, so you'll have to drop hints that you're interested. Or just talk to them, straight up. You'll have to choose one of them, though, unless they're into polygamy or foursomes. Anyways, they've been flirting, right? Flirt back. You can overthink your labels and shit when tomorrow comes."

"Flirt back," Juyeon repeats, to himself. He can do that. "Okay, thank you. Is Hak home yet?"

Jaehyun huffs. "At midnight? No way. It's only me and Han Sohee today."

"Have a nice date," Juyeon says, aiming for teasing and landing on fond. "I love you."

" _Drunk_ ," Jaehyun snorts. "Love you too."

Juyeon ends his call and leaves the bathroom with a newfound determination. 

He catches Kevin when he trips on the way to his friend, his touch lingering for longer than it’s needed. He smells nice, like vanilla and grass and other simple yet pleasant things Juyeon appreciates. When Kevin comes back, their conversation resumes as usual until Jacob, the live singer, starts playing an acoustic rendition of Taeyeon's _Four Seasons_. He has an amazing voice. His tone isn't as unique as Kevin's, who sang a little bit of a Billie Eilish for them due to Changmin's repeated requests and left them in awe for more than a few seconds, but still nice to listen to. 

What gets Juyeon's attention, though, is the huge grin blooming on Chanhee's face. He turns to look at them. "Kevin, are you responsible for this?"

"Maybe...?" Kevin mirrors the grin. "You said you liked her."

"I do," Chanhee says, too softly, too warmly. "Thank you."

"Was the song choice yours, too?" Juyeon asks.

Kevin shakes his head, his cheeks pink. "I just asked him if he could play a Taeyeon song."

"Aw, I wanna be serenaded too!" Changmin complains, folding his arms around his chest. "Kevin, what is this? Are you picking favorites?"

"No way," Kevin says, laughing. "I'm picking a least favorite, and it's you. Juyeonie, do you have a song request?"

Jaehyun's voice rings inside his brain. Flirt back. Juyeon smiles. "IU's Love Poem?"

Kevin rolls his eyes dramatically, asks Chanhee for another cocktail. Chanhee snorts and turns the blender on. 

"Oh! I love that song!" Changmin claps excitedly, then raises his eyebrows "Wait, you already knew that. It's my ringtone."

"I knew that, yeah," Juyeon confirms, his smile growing wider. 

Changmin gives him one of those looks again, heat in his eyes, his lips parted. "Juyeon?"

Juyeon gulps, his heart skipping a couple beats. "Hm?"

"Where are you going after this?" Changmin asks. There's nothing innocent, nothing thoughtless about how he phrases _this_ question.

"I don't know," Juyeon replies, uncertain of how to go about this. "I meant to go home, but... Not anymore?"

"Good boy," Changmin smirks and, just like that, the moment is gone. "What about you two?"

"I don't know either," Kevin says. "I was supposed to be home hours ago, but I'm here, so."

"I'll probably go home," Chanhee puts Kevin's cocktail on the counter, his features schooled into something neutral "My shift ends in like, two hours. Why?”

"I was wondering if we could go somewhere else," Changmin suggests, evenly. "All four of us. Kevin needs to celebrate getting a new job, I need to forget I'm about to get kicked out of dance school, Chanhee hasn't had a drink yet and Juyeon needs to enjoy himself so he won't remember tonight as the night he got stood up, probably for the first time in his life."

Juyeon opens his mouth to protest, then closes. This is, in fact, the first time he's ever got stood up. His present company makes it easy to forget he's ever been bothered by someone's absence.

He might be getting in too deep too early, but with Changmin, with Chanhee, with Kevin... It feels complete. Like a fated meeting.

"I don't know, Changmin," Chanhee says. To his credit, he sounds regretful. "I've been at school all day, I'm a little tired."

Changmin pouts. "If you're not too tired, will you come? I know a nice place around here. They don't close until morning and the drinks are cheaper."

"If I'm not too tired," Chanhee concedes. He sounds like he's fighting a battle within himself, whether to be professional and stay on his lane or give in and let the night decide where to take him next. 

Juyeon can relate to that, so he decides to give him a little nudge. "You're having fun, right? With us here?"

"I'm having the worst time of my life," Chanhee chuckles, winks at him.

Juyeon isn't the greatest at catching social cues, but he knows that means he’s lying.

…

Changmin is doing it, he thinks. The _too intense_ thing. He's doing it.

He's doing it when Chanhee changes out of his uniform at two in the morning, walks out of the bar wearing a dark green hoodie and jeans, completely bare faced. The dark circles around his eyes are more evident without makeup, a telltale sign of tiredness, yet he's still choosing to hang out with them. He's still choosing to spend time with complete strangers he met a few hours ago, choosing to flash them a conspiratory smile as he shows them the bottle of wine he's stolen from the kitchen. He's pretty, sure, but now Changmin takes one look at him and can't stop repeating the word beautiful inside his head.

Concerning. Not even the beginning, either.

He's doing it when Chanhee jokingly asks for someone to carry him to the place they're going to and Juyeon, sweet and genuine, offers him a piggyback ride. Kevin complains about not having someone to carry him and Changmin tells him to hop on his back, since they're doing this now. Juyeon and Changmin share a look as they keep on walking, as if saying _can you believe those guys?_. Whenever Changmin talks to Juyeon, he doesn't feel like he's dealing with someone he just met. He feels like he's talking to an old friend, with the way they seem to get each other, the way they communicate without words.

 _Too intense_ , his unconscious supplies. It's not wrong.

Then they get to the bar, and he's doing it when Kevin throws himself at one of the plastic chairs and demands more booze, protests vehemently when they all claim he should drink water instead. Changmin was doing throughout the five minutes he's carried Kevin, a warm, fidgety weight on his back, as he fake swooned about Changmin's strong dancer arms. Kevin's so charming and so deeply unaware of it, Changmin wants to keep poking at him, keep teasing him and talking to him, knowing he'll be captivated by whatever his response is.

Perhaps he’s past his drinking limit already. He hasn’t drunk in a while and that tequila was _nasty_. 

With that in mind, he orders a plate of fried chicken to go with his soju and Chanhee’s stolen wine. Juyeon asks for soda and Kevin, begrudgingly, allows them to give him water.

“You’ll work tomorrow,” Juyeon says, matter-of-factly. “You don’t wanna be hungover tomorrow.”

"I'll sleep it off through the day," Kevin argues. "I have a job, y'all! I have a job related to something I love! Isn't that worth celebrating?"

The excited sparkle in his eyes makes Changmin want to buy the entire bar and give it to him. Instead, he nods. "Yes, of course. And you can celebrate without getting plastered. Plus, we're worried about you going home by yourself."

Kevin shrugs. "You should come with me."

Chanhee almost chokes on his drink. He's the only person in the world that could make drinking cheap wine on a plastic cup look classy. "Huh?"

"Yeah," Kevin makes a dismissive gesture, as if he's suggesting a walk at the park. "If you're that worried about me… My apartment is big enough for the four of us, I think."

Changmin whistles. "Rich bitch."

"It's a long story," Kevin tries to justify. "It's my uncle's place."

"That's always how rich people go," Chanhee taunts, a smile making its way to his lips. "I don't have money, my relatives do. Well, my relatives are broke, so."

"Don't be mean to him," Juyeon scolds them, wrapping an arm around Kevin protectively. "You shouldn't be inviting strangers to your place, though, dude. That only confirms the fact you're too drunk to make wise decisions."

"As if you're one to talk," Kevin huffs. "You guys wouldn't rob me, would you?"

Changmin laughs, charmed beyond belief. "Kevin, I just told you I'm risking getting kicked out of dance school because I have no money. Of course I'd rob you."

"I like how you say my name," Kevin says, dazed, his brain-to-mouth filter clearly no longer working.

Changmin isn't shy. He can be sheepish, inin unfamiliar settings, but he does not get flustered easily. Much like the opposite, actually, and rare are the occasions when someone makes him blush or hide his face in his hands or want to blink out of existence. This time, though, he does all of these things. "I say it normally."

"Sure you do," Kevin retorts, grinning.

There's a playful glint in his eyes that unsettles Changmin to no end. Everything about this situation unsettles him, to be honest — the fact it's three in the morning, and instead of sleeping at home he's sitting on the outside part of a bar with three beautiful strangers, telling them his life story and receiving theirs in return. 

He could've had what he wanted, in a way. He walked into Insanity with the sole objective of getting sloshed, drinking until he started seeing double, until he forgot about his current issues. Then he got sidetracked, surrounded by handsome men who were clearly interested in him, and there was that moment with Juyeon where he could've taken him home. They would've sneaked out, walked to Changmin's house, done it. His mother is at his aunt's place and his sisters never mind when he brings people over as long as he doesn't make noise. It would be a welcome distraction and a soothing balm to his ego considering Juyeon's the hottest man he's ever seen in his entire life.

He's an amateur dancer and a shit excuse for a human being, but at least he has game.

He could've had what he wanted, he thinks, absent-minded, as he keeps drinking, and his thought process gets muddled, less guarded. He doesn't know why he feels drawn to them, all of them, to get to know them, to spend more time with them. They clicked in different ways, and at this point he's acutely aware they're all interested in him, to an extent. He could've had a pleasant, no-strings-attached experience and he gave that up. Why?

"Changmin," Chanhee calls him, places a gentle hand on his thigh. "Are you alright?"

_He has such a nice voice. He's so pretty._

"'m fine," Changmin assures him with a crooked smile. "Just dozed off. What are you all talking about?"

"Juyeonie is telling us more about his terrible ex," Kevin clarifies. 

Changmin tries to pay attention despite his increasing inebriation. He lays his head on Juyeon's shoulders and listens as he tells the story of this girl he's been with for years who cheated on him with his roommate. It's absurd to think someone would be capable of doing that to their partner regardless of who the victim would be, but it's even more surreal to think someone would do that to Juyeon. Sweet, concerned, caring Juyeon, who started playing with Changmin's hair as if they've known each other for longer than six hours. 

They keep talking. Chanhee tells them about his roommate, about his roommate's friend who slowly grows to be their roommate too with how often he stays over. He becomes more talkative when drinking, more philosophical, and he begins wondering out loud if his real-roommate isn't actually in love with his fake-roommate, wondering if he should meddle somehow, although he claims his friends' love lives are none of his business. 

"Either way, I want what they have," Kevin admits. 

Chanhee sighs. "Me too." He sounds small, vulnerable.

"This is so _crazy_ ," Changmin slurs out, unable to keep his contemplations to himself. "Isn't it crazy? That we're talking about all of this. We met today. _Yesterday_."

"I never hang out with customers like this," Chanhee adds, unprompted.

Something warm swirls on Changmin's chest. Juyeon chuckles, satisfied. "We must be special."

"I'd say you guys are annoying," Chanhee banters, because of course he does. "Very insistent."

"Speaking of annoying things," Kevin begins, reluctant. "It's five in the morning."

Changmin looks up to the sky to check out that, in fact, the sky has become a clearer shade of blue, the sun already peeking out. The fact he hadn't noticed that, too wrapped up in this conversation, is concerning. 

"I should go," Juyeon says, his lips almost forming a pout Changmin wants to kiss away. "I have an internship thing in the afternoon, I need sleep."

"Should we share an Uber?" Kevin asks him. "You live near me, right?"

Juyeon blinks. "Um, yeah. We should do that. We should make a group chat with the four of us, too, and send a message there when we get home safely."

Changmin doesn't say there's hardly a need for that, since both him and Chanhee live two blocks away, and there's no immediate risk of them getting robbed. Changmin doesn't say there's hardly a need for that, because it could escalate to them forming a bond that goes beyond a fateful, dreamlike encounter, and he can't deal with piling up on top of his already very daunting problems. 

Changmin doesn't say anything, only types his number on Juyeon's phone and melts inside at the smile he gets in response. 

_Too intense_. If he is, he’s under the impression he’s not the only one.

...

Chanhee feels dirty, and it has nothing to do with the fact he hasn't showered yet. 

Memories flood his brain as he takes off his clothes and lowers himself into the bathtub. He's drunk an entire bottle of wine by himself, and he knows better than anyone cheap wine hits harder than the fancy ones Keonhee buys for them on special occasions, so he feels a little buzzed, and he's indulging himself.

He never takes customers home. He steps into Insanity and he's Choi Chanhee, the bartender, a piece part of the well-oiled machine of capitalism. When he had considered, briefly, having his fun with either of the boys, he had thought cheeky kisses whenever people weren't looking. He's against the very concept of sleeping around, thinks it's a waste of his time to jump from bed to bed with people he doesn't care about on a deeper, more emotional level. Call him a prude if you must, but beyond his own modesty and Christian reservations, he also thinks putting yourself out there is a taxing, troublesome ordeal. Thus far in his life, he's avoided it like the plague and he'll continue to do so. He has priorities.

However. 

He finds himself heading to his apartment with Changmin in tow, their arms locked. They stayed at the bar for a while after Juyeon and Kevin went home, just so Changmin could finish eating his second chicken order. Chanhee finds out they live in the same street, which baffles him to no end, because Ji Changmin is not a man who goes by unnoticed in a crowd. When Chanhee gets out of the house, though, all he thinks of is when will he get to go back to bed, so maybe that's why they don't remember bumping into each other. 

"You'll be alright going home by yourself?" Chanhee asks, unlocking the door to his place. Keonhee and Hwanwoong are either asleep or not home, considering he hasn't heard anyone screaming or complaining yet.

Changmin nods. He seems more sober now, with food in him. "Is that concern for me?"

"Fuck off," Chanhee huffs, faking his annoyance entirely. He's worried it's becoming more obvious as they spend time together, the way he never means his snarky replies. "I just don't want you getting run over by a bus weighing on my conscience."

"Suuuure," Changmin stretches the word, a smirk on his lips. "What I'm hearing: you like me."

Chanhee scoffs. "Go home already. Then message the group, Juyeon will get worried."

"Yeah, Juyeon might." There's a dangerous heat shining clear in Changmin's eyes as he steps closer. A part of Chanhee notices he's left his door open, the part of him that's not feeling thrillingly cornered. It's the first time he's ever felt tempted to not have the upper hand, to let someone have their way with him.

It's agonizingly slow, the gravitational pull that brings them to the tipping point. Changmin wraps an arm around Chanhee's waist, one hand on the small of his back, the other cupping his face. His touch sets every inch of Chanhee's skin on fire, and he doesn't know what to do with his limbs at first, tipsy clumsiness getting the best of him, but then he puts his arms around Changmin's neck, his fingers touching the point where his hair is cut short.

"I wasn't imagining this," Changmin says, low and careful. "Was I?"

He's giving Chanhee a way out. It's a small mercy, an act of thoughtfulness Chanhee absolutely does not need. 

Because he wants this. 

"No, you weren't," he breathes out, stepping closer, and Changmin doesn't think twice before capturing his lips for a deep kiss. Chanhee's brain works on autopilot, realizes they're standing in the middle of the hallway and pulls Changmin inside, pushes him towards the couch and sits on his lap, craving more of this. "Is this okay?"

"Fantastic," Changmin whispers, kisses him again with the eagerness of a man starved, intense and demanding and perfect. Chanhee kisses back with the same amount of passion, though he slows down his place, savouring the feeling of being wanted, of running his hands through Changmin's body, hardened muscle hot and sweaty under his fingertips. 

Chanhee knows what Kevin's _strong dancer arms_ spiel was about, now. 

They part and Changmin opens his mouth to say something, his lips red and bloated. Whatever his thoughts are, though, he doesn't get to voice them, because a squealing noise completely breaks their moment.

Keonhee is standing in the middle of the living room, looking haunted, embarrassed and shell-shocked all at once. Chanhee would laugh if he wasn't mortified. He hops off Changmin's lap immediately, straightens his clothes, tries to make himself look more presentable. "What do you _want_?"

"Nothing, nothing," Keonhee says, wide-eyed, making dismissive gestures. "Um, I'll just go to my room?"

"You should," Chanhee answers, his tone clipped. He's not really annoyed, knows he got carried away and is secretly glad for the interruption. It's still embarrassing as hell, though.

"No need," Changmin chirps, gives them a wobbly grin. "I'll go home. My sisters must be worried."

Chanhee lets out a frustrated noise, something between a groan and a sigh. Keonhee, bless his soul, scurries off to the bedroom, aware he'll have to face a lot of roommate wrath as soon as they're alone. 

Changmin giggles as he makes his way to the doorstep. "He seems nice."

"Flirt with my roommate and I'll honest to God murder you," Chanhee warns, opening the door.

"I live across the street," Changmin says, cheekily. "I can always drop by for a visit."

"Hard pass," Chanhee deadpans. "Bye."

"Bye," Changmin gives Chanhee a quick, feather-light peck on the lips and walks away without looking back once. Chanhee is flabbergasted, speechless, and when he's in his bath he scrubs at his skin harder as if he could wash the feeling of Changmin's hands on him away.

Chanhee tries to digest everything that happened throughout the past hours as he begins his skincare routine. He wears his silk robe, the one he's bought specifically for times where he needs to feel luxurious and pampered, and spreads a peach-scented moisturizer across his face, his cheekbones and his forehead, because he's already cleansed his skin from makeup back at the bar. He remembers being in the break room and Sangyeon coming up to him, wiggling his eyebrows, an annoying Scorpio smirk on his face as he noted the fact there were people waiting for Chanhee outside.

He almost wants to talk to Sangyeon about this, because he's delightfully _normal_ , with his management job and his accountant girlfriend and his monogamous relationship and his self-claimed simplicity. He doesn't hold back from speaking his mind either, which is very refreshing, so he'd either make Chanhee see the situation in a less complicated light or struggle so much to understand it that it would make Chanhee give up on any thoughts of keeping this going on.

Changmin is an amazing kisser. Kevin is beautiful, so ideal it hurts. Juyeon... 

Chanhee smiles, unbidden, while applying his toner. Juyeon is a supermodel disguised as a college student with a heart of gold. 

Chanhee hasn't felt the longing to get to know someone in a while, busy with the routine he's set up for himself, and the dynamic between the four of them is nothing like whatever he's experienced before. He feels like he's overthinking what's supposed to be just a nice night, but he knows how he rolls. Eric, his neighbor, tells Chanhee he has his Venus in Pisces, and says it means he falls in love fast and he gives it all he has until he doesn't.

He becomes... awfully open, when liking someone. Open and vulnerable and everything he hates being. He's getting ahead of himself, he knows, and yet...

His phone chimes with a new notification and interrupts his train of thought.

_tigers! (4)_

**juyeon** : Did everyone get home safe?

Chanhee chuckles. Speak of the devil.

 **me** : yup! safe and sound! 

**kevin** : same

 **kevin** : ugh i have work later... mess

Chanhee's breathing falters for a few seconds, realizing he'll spend two days a week as Kevin Moon's coworker, listening to him sing and watching him be perfect right in front of his eyes. Life can be so messed up.

 **changmin** : i'm homeeee

 **changmin** : well at least y'all will get to sleep lol i got the morning shift at the flower shop and i look like garbage <3

 **changmin** : chanhee come visit me

 **chanhee** : no way in hell

 **chanhee** : i will be taking a nap

 **changmin** : do you hate the poor. be honest

"What are you smiling at?" a voice comes up from behind him. 

Chanhee jumps in surprise, startled, and finds Keonhee standing at the bathroom door, still wearing his pajamas. Chanhee brings his hands to his chest. " _What the fuck_. You almost gave me a heart attack."

"Well, same," Keonhee replies, pouting. "Which reminds me, why didn't you tell me you were bringing someone over? I wouldn't have interrupted!"

"I wasn't planning on bringing him home. It just happened," Chanhee clarifies, taking his serum out of the drawer and patting it against his skin. 

Keonhee frowns. "Do you have to apply it like that?"

"Yup, it makes it better for the skin to absorb the product," Chanhee explains, patting at his cheeks as a demonstration "Anyways, I had a long night, yeah? I'll explain it to you later. Right now, I really need at least twelve hours of sleep."

"Alright," Keonhee concedes. "But I wanna know everything about it. I deserve it, after what I just saw."

"You talk like you walked in on a murder and not on two very attractive people making out," Chanhee says. He grabs his hand cream, the chocolate-scented one he never uses, because he feels like surrounding himself with sweeter smells today.

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer," Keonhee makes a face and leaves. 

Chanhee goes back to his phone, checks out his Instagram notifications before opening the group chat.

 **juyeon** : Good luck w/ ur shit Changmin!

 **juyeon** : Shift*

 **changmin** : shit works too looool

Chanhee bites back a smile as he puts chapstick on and thinks about his life choices. He can't find it within himself to be regretful.

...

It's a quiet, comfortable ride back home.

Kevin and Juyeon are notoriously bad at small talk, you see, and had it been any other situation Kevin would've felt tempted to fill in the silence with something. However, they both spent their entire Friday buzzing with nervous energy, Kevin with his expectations for his job interview, Juyeon with his worries for his date, and after the night they just had they seem to want the same thing — rest. 

At some point, Juyeon falls asleep leaning against Kevin. Juyeon is taller than him by a lot, so this position seems uncomfortable, the way he's twisting his body to fit in the curve of Kevin's shoulders, yet he looks too peaceful to wake up. It's like when Dongju is babysitting Sunny and he falls asleep on top of one of them and they would rather die before interrupting his sacred sleep. 

For someone with such an intimidating aura at first glance, Juyeon is _cute_. 

Kevin has to shake him awake, though, when they arrive at their first destination, a two-floor building in an almost-empty street. "Hey, it's you."

Juyeon blinks, drowsy. "Already?"

Kevin laughs. "Yup. It's too early for traffic."

"I guess," Juyeon mumbles as he rubs his eyes with the back of his hands like it would immediately awaken his muddled-by-sleep senses. "Text me when you get home?"

"Juyeon hyung?" someone shrieks from outside, squinting to see them through the car window. 

Juyeon flinches. "You only got home now?"

"Yup, my friend dropped me off at the bus stop," the boy explains enthusiastically, either drunk or naturally energetic. He's dark-haired, looks shorter than both Juyeon and Kevin, grins as he runs closer to them, showing his perfect white teeth. "Nice to meet you! I'm Haknyeon!"

"Nice to meet you, Haknyeon," Kevin says, taken aback yet never forgetting his manners. "I'm Kevin."

"That's my roommate," Juyeon adds, smiles awkwardly. "Hak, that's, um, my friend."

Kevin supposes there's no nice-sounding way of describing a stranger you spilled a lot of intimate stories to for no rational reason, but he does wonder what exactly is embarrassing Juyeon. Haknyeon seems... nice, although seeing him right now is like being a vampire and facing the sun, the living embodiment of everything too bright to touch. 

Kevin shakes his head. He gets too philosophical after drinking and their Uber driver is already sending them death glares. "It's really nice to meet you, but, uh, I think I should go? I'll text you."

"Ah, right," Juyeon says, absent, leaving the car with very questionable control of his limbs. "See you soon."

"Bye, Kevin!" Haknyeon waves at him, his smile unwavering. Kevin waves back.

Soon enough, Kevin finds himself inside his apartment. Stepping inside his safe place after such a chaotic night feels relieving, even more so when he realizes he'll not go to Porcupine later tonight. Instead, he'll get to sing — regardless of the fact none of the people there will care about him, or how much music means to him, and most of them won't pay attention to whatever it is that he's doing. 

He's spent much time avoiding live singing in front of crowds, big or small, because he thought his absolute lack of experience would show on his face. It's one thing to do a couple artsy extracurriculars and another to go out there and sing. On weddings, birthday parties, hotel lounges, places where he's not the main focus yet there's still a pressure for him to perform well. Jacob tells him to internalize the fact people aren't there to judge him, they're there to listen to music and eat their food and get plastered. 

Kevin takes a cold shower. He loves how sobering the sensation of freezing water on his skin is, how it makes him awake, alert, fresh. He hears it's good for his skin, too, which is awesome because the only skincare he does is putting on SPF before going outside, and even that was a birthday gift from Dongju. So. He texts the group chat, letting them know he's got home safe, and throws himself on his bed, exhausted.

He wakes up at 4pm startled, because he's supposed to be at _Insanity_ before eight and he has to at least prepare a tentative setlist. He texts Jacob and Dongju asking for song suggestions. From Jacob, he gets Western male singers, mostly acoustic songs more on the chill side. From Dongju, he gets emotional, vocally driven ballads and hit girl group songs. Kevin adds to those suggestions his usual repertoire, with Billie Eilish and Ariana Grande and Lady Gaga rearranged to suit his style better, along with a couple more indie songs he's grown to like. 

He would perform some of his original compositions too, but he doesn't know if it's wise to present those on his first day, so he postpones it to when at least the regulars at the bar know him better. He considers, too, the customers' song requests and his break, so he won't be playing for six hours in a row. 

His Notes app list still feels empty. His thumb hovers over the group chat.

Kevin has been described as slippery, before. A person who has a hard time opening up, has a hard time allowing others to get closer to him. He wouldn't necessarily agree or disagree with those statements, instead he would rephrase them — he's cautious. He thinks back to yesterday, at the whirlwind of sensations he's gone through, and his main impulse is to detach. To retreat. To archive their messages and focus on his goal. 

This gig at _Insanity_ allows him to maybe look for another part-time job, write songs, study music, learn how to play some more instruments. If people like him, they'll hire him for other events. He shouldn't let fooling around get in his way, especially considering one of them is his coworker. 

However, he does need song recommendations. It's a professional emergency! He opens the group chat.

...

Kevin is paranoid.

He arrives at Insanity an hour earlier, to get to know his coworkers in the break room then set up his equipment. He's tried to shove his anxiety to the backburner, convince himself he'll have to meet a lot of people at the same time in social settings throughout his life, but it's hard to apply. Sangyeon eases the process for him, walks around the room introducing him to his coworkers. He meets the waitresses — Chaeyeon and Jiwon and Chaesol — and the waiters — Seungyeon and Hangyul — and attempts at extra friendliness with them, having been on their spot before. He meets Soyeon and Minhyuk and Jisung from the kitchen staff and Yeoreum and Minnie and Jinwoo from the cleaning staff. They seem to get along well, chattering away before the bar gets too full, the air between them of comfortable familiarity instead of shared despair.

"And you already know Chanhee," Sangyeon says, smiling the type of restrained smile you do when you have a funny joke to tell but you're wondering if it's not too inappropriate for the current setting.

Chanhee grimaces, as if he's heard that joke a thousand times. "Hi again."

"Hi," Kevin smiles, pleased to see him despite their coworkers' eyes fixed on them.

"I'll go set up the stage," Sangyeon announces, his smile growing wider. "You have like, ten minutes to chat with everyone, then I'll need you outside, okay?"

Kevin nods. "Sure, thank you."

He sits on one of the chairs, already feeling like he's exhausted his social quota for a lifetime. Chanhee seems to catch up on that, places a comforting hand on Kevin's shoulder. "You okay?"

"I'm a little bit overwhelmed, to be honest," Kevin confesses. "It's been a while since I sang to a crowd. Plus, there's so many people to get to know. It feels very new."

What he doesn't say is that he's not sure Chanhee's presence is a relief or a burden in that sense. He's familiar, kind, yet he unknowingly feeds into Kevin's deepest impulses. Not the ones telling him to retract — the ones telling him to reach out.

"Not to try to add to any of that," Chanhee starts, reluctant, places his hand back on his lap. "But I'm gonna tell you something, and I'll only tell you before Sangyeon tells you and makes it a bigger deal than it should be. He's obsessed with setting people up in the workplace, it's a whole thing."

_Does that mean he doesn't want to be set up, then?_

No. Kevin won't fall down that rabbit hole minutes before his performance. He limits his reaction to a raised eyebrow and a tight-lipped smile. "Go on."

"You mentioned it yesterday, how nervous you were. I figured... I don't know. It's dumb," Chanhee runs his fingers through his hair, takes a deep breath as if bracing himself. "I kinda asked Juyeon and Changmin to drop by, so you could have people you knew around? But they said they were too busy with their own stuff. Juyeon had his internship meeting and Changmin was still at the flower shop. He's, and those are his words, _dead inside_. So I asked Chaesol to stay behind the counter while I serve the orders. In case you need anything, I'll be around. Did I overstep?"

"No, that was..." Kevin struggles to find the right words, unable to ignore the warmth spreading through his chest. _The most thoughtful thing anyone has done for me in years? A brand of concern rarely shown towards me?_ Kevin doesn't want to sound like that, though, whiny and vulnerable and like the typical middle class kid raised on emotional distance both from others and himself. It's pathetic. "Really considerate, actually. Thank you."

Chanhee lets a relieved grin take over his face. "You're welcome. You're talented, you deserve support."

It's dazzling, everything about him. Detach, Kevin's consciousness hisses. "You've heard me sing once while I was drunk as hell."

"Okay, fine, I won't be nice then," Chanhee shoots back, playfully petty "Go sing your little song. Hope you trip."

Kevin chuckles. He feels oddly encouraged as he steps onto the stage. The place's already open but there's not a lot of movement yet, only a few customers scattered around the bar, sitting at their tables and waiting for their food. After he makes sure his equipment is all good to go, he clears his throat and starts talking. He's been working as a waiter since high school, he's got a grasp of how to navigate acting personable. Talent isn't enough to push a singer's career these days, they need to be charismatic, likable. 

"Hi, everyone," Kevin starts, satisfied when a couple heads turn to him. "I hope you're having a great time! My name's Kevin and I'll sing for you tonight. Now, at first I'll play some more chill songs I like and a couple radio hits, but if you have a song request, give it to one of these lovely people serving you, yeah?"

Kevin tries to not look at Chanhee. That would be unprofessional, although he is lovely, and he is serving them tonight, and he is also a familiar face. Who would blame him for trying to seek comfort in eye contact, right? 

He doesn't even notice, too busy taking the orders of a couple on the farthest corner of the bar, but his presence is reassuring, after all. Kevin smiles grows wider. "Let's get it started, then!"

...

Juyeon is exhausted.

He usually appreciates exhaustion, to be honest, because he thrives on being busy. He's enthusiastic about the field his internship tackles, despite Jaehyun's words of disgust towards real estate law, he enjoys the practical aspects of it. Their approach to their major is starkly different, and it differs in its applicability — Jaehyun wants to change the word, Juyeon wants to help as many people as possible while doing something he feels he's good at, and that fulfills him. He likes building up to-do lists, reading up on cases, being useful, and the bone-deep tiredness coming after he gets a task done is satisfying.

However, throughout the meeting, his head is fully somewhere else.

Haknyeon couldn't get a word out of him about who Kevin was or why did he come home so late and Jaehyun had to tell him about what he knew of the situation since Juyeon was not in the state of mind to elaborate upon anything. He went upstairs, took a fast shower and slept for around four hours before getting up to make lunch for himself, and only then did he feel sufficiently alive to tell his roommates about the night he's had.

Despite his tendency of oversimplifying things, Haknyeon gives him decent advice. He said not to focus much on labels yet, especially considering nothing happened and attraction is a layered, complicated thing. He talked about finding out he wasn't straight and the fact it changed nothing, objectively, about the person he is. Sure, he'd have to deal with societal backlash, but he had feared that unpacking the real extent of his affections would change his identity at his very core. 

And no, not really. Turns out, Haknyeon is still Haknyeon. And Juyeon can still be Juyeon.

Even though, sitting in the conference room and helping an attorney with a wealthy water company case, he feels less like Juyeon and more like a corporate, capitalist bastard. It's fine. He just needs more sleep.

It's around 5pm, way past the time he usually spends at the firm on Saturdays, when Juyeon's supervisor tells him he's free to go and congratulates him for his work today, which is satisfying enough. 

Doesn't make up for the fact Juyeon really wanted to see Kevin playing at Insanity for the first time, and he would've had the energy to do so if they hadn't called him on a weekend to do assistant work, but still. It's a consolation prize and he's no lawyer yet, so he'll have to swallow his complaints and deal with it. As soon as he opens the door to his apartment, he detects a familiar hearty smell coming from the kitchen.

He finds Haknyeon adding chopped garlic to a small bowl with bean paste, red pepper flakes, sesame oil and fish sauce. He mixes it all with a spoon while there's something boiling on the stove. He's so concentrated on finishing his task he only notices Juyeon's standing at the doorstep when he clears his throat, announcing he's home. "What are you making?"

" _Haejangguk_ ," Haknyeon takes a crumpled piece of paper out of his apron's pockets. It's a recipe printed from the internet, although its content is barely understandable. _Nothing can cure a hangover like a warm, delicious soup_ , the header of the cooking site reads. 

"I'm not—" Juyeon protests until he feels a persistent tug on his brain, an inconvenient pull that could only mean one thing. "You didn't have to."

Haknyeon shakes his head. "I want to compensate for embarrassing you and your loverboy, and Jaehyun hyung wants to eat soup, so."

Juyeon is almost touched. "You didn't embarrass me, Hak. I was just surprised."

" _Uh-huh_ ," Haknyeon hums, unconvinced. He moves back to the sink and starts cutting mushrooms into small pieces. "Would you have kissed him if I didn't surprise you?"

Juyeon thinks back at that moment, waking up to see Kevin smiling at him, the first two buttons of his shirt undone, his black hair falling over his face in waves, the sunrise reflecting on his skin and his kind, curious eyes. "Maybe. The Uber driver was there, you know."

"If he wasn't there...?" Haknyeon insists.

Juyeon shrugs. "Isn't it pointless wondering now?"

"Indulge me, hyung," Haknyeon points at the boiling pan with a wooden spoon. "If there was no Uber driver, would you have kissed him? Yes or no."

"I think so," Juyeon admits, begrudgingly. "I wouldn't have if I was sober, though. Doesn't matter."

Haknyeon tuts. "I don't like the consistency of this sauce."

"You have nothing to say to that?" Juyeon laughs in disbelief.

"I do have a lot of say to that," Haknyeon clarifies. "But Jaehyun hyung says I should stop meddling in your life after you got stood up by my friend. So, sauce. Isn't it too thick?"

"It's supposed to be thick, I think," Juyeon answers, absentmindedly. "Sihyeon had a family emergency. You couldn't have predicted it."

"Still," Haknyeon mutters, puts bite-sized beef chunks on another bowl and pours half the sauce over it. "Ok, I'm supposed to set this aside. Has the broth been simmering for ten minutes? Fuck, did I forget to set up an alarm?"

" _Haknyeon_ ," Juyeon calls him, serious as a heart attack. It bothers him deeply that Haknyeon would feel bad for trying to get Juyeon to have a normal love story. It's a bit nosy, sure, slightly inconvenient, but nothing ill-intentioned. "You know I'm not mad at you, right?"

"Well, of course you're not mad. I accidentally set you up with three hot dudes who were clearly into you, I should be your personal hero. But," Haknyeon points the wooden spoon at him accusingly. "You're way too nice to tell me to fuck off and stop being invasive. If there's something I learned with this, is that you can't force anything when it comes to romance. Shit happens when you least expect. With people you least expect, too."

Juyeon's brain predictably conjures images of Changmin holding his face in his hands, Kevin being flustered by compliments, Chanhee rolling his eyes in fake annoyance. "You weren't being invasive. You were trying to help your friend have a nice experience."

"Yeah, yeah," Haknyeon pours the rest of the sauce in another bowl with blanched cabbage on it. "I'm an angel. Now get the hell out of my kitchen.”

Juyeon laughs. He heads to the living room to wait and finds Jaehyun sitting in the living room, reading a 60-pages long article on his notebook. He's squinting at the screen, biting his tongue in concentration, as if trying to make sense of what the hell's written in front of him, which is an extremely relatable pre-law mood. Juyeon doesn't interrupt him, instead opens his phone to answer whatever messages he left without responses. He clicks on Sihyeon's chat first, tells her he understands family emergencies are complicated and that he hopes her grandma is well. She replies right away and asks him if he wants to have lunch with her tomorrow in order for her to make things right. 

Juyeon sighs. He doesn't know what to do — although he completely gets the reasons why she stood him up, he's not sure he trusts her to not bail one more time. He's scared things will be awkward, she'll try too hard to win his favor and whenever he breaks it up to her that he's not interested, she'll chalk it up to the fact she skipped on their first date and she'll think he's an asshole.

Haknyeon called Juyeon _too nice_. He doesn't think he does anything to write home about, simply takes decisions he figures any decent human being would, based on what his morals tell him is right. He wanted to give her a chance, both to indulge Haknyeon and, deep inside, to give himself a chance to break free from his slump. When you're betrayed the way Juyeon was, you start wondering what did you do wrong to warrant this kind of behavior. Was he a bad boyfriend for Juhyun? Did he forget her birthday, did he neglect her, did he miss unspoken signs? Was he not bright enough, not optimistic enough, not ambitious enough?

And there was the matter of his former roommate, too. His friend, someone he's been with since he moved out of his parents' place, someone who taught him how to play beer pong and took him home when he's surpassed his alcohol limit and helped him when he was throwing up on the toilet of some random frat house. Was Juyeon a bad friend, a bad roommate? Did he refuse to come to too many parties, did he not wash the dishes as often as he should, was he too quiet, too indifferent?

 _Maybe they're in love_ , Jaehyun offered, the night Juyeon showed up at his doorstep with bloodshot eyes, carrying a suitcase with all of his essential belongings. He never found out whether that's true, having blocked both his ex and his former friend on social media, because he doesn't think it'll be much of a solace either way. Those were six months of fooling around behind his back, six months of lying, of pretending things were okay, of making Juyeon _believe_ things were okay. They could've said the truth and spared him from pain.

(It's been a while, you know. Months. Yet he feels the word _stupid_ echoing inside his brain whenever he remembers what happened. If that's what happens to people who are too nice, Juyeon doesn't want it.)

Because of that, trust no longer comes easy for him. The trials one has to go through to see any sort of vulnerability from him are hard, complicated. Sihyeon doesn't want to clear those hurdles, not really.

Juyeon would like to be her friend, though. He would like to allow himself that.

Jaehyun is still busy with his articles, so Juyeon opens the group chat to ask for opinions, even though he already has an idea of what they're going to say.

_tigers! (4)_

**me** : You guys, help

 **Ji Changmin:** what's up

 **Ji Changmin:** chanhee and kevin are prob working

 **Ji Changmin** : i hope i'm enough ^-^

 **me:** Of course you are!!

 **me** : The girl who stood me up asked me out tomorrow

 **Kevin Moon:** she's got some nerve

 **Kevin Moon** : i'm on break! hi

 **me** : She's had a family thing!!

 **me** : The thing is, if I accept, I'll have to tell her everything

 **me** : She thinks she's going to a cute little date

 **me** : And she'll find out I'm not interested and only agreed on the 1st date because my roommate asked me to

 **Ji Changmin** : oof

 **Ji Changmin** : harsh

 **me** : :( Help meeee

 **Ji Changmin** : you should tell her you should go then leave her hanging

 **Kevin Moon** : dude... that's not right

 **Ji Changmin** : it's payback :P

 **Kevin Moon** : OR you could talk to her about all of that thru text

 **Kevin Moon** : and allow her to decide if she wants to have lunch w u

 **Kevin Moon** : regardless of the fact ur 100% friendzoning her

 **me** : That's actually not a bad idea...

 **me** : Thank you, I might do that!!

 **Kevin Moon** : jfdhkljhkj you're welcome

 **Ji Changmin** : left the group

 **Choi Chanhee** : i thought this bitch left the group fr

 **Ji Changmin** : juyeon won't listen to my advice :(

 **Choi Chanhee** : poor little baby

 **Choi Chanhee** : next time i'll give you a drink on the house for your troubles

 **Ji Changmin** : REALLY??? :D

 **Choi Chanhee** : i was going to but i read this in your voice and got annoyed

 **Choi Chanhee** : so no

Juyeon reads through the messages with a slight ache spreading around his chest. There's been one thing, lately, that he wishes he could allow himself to have.

...

 _Seven_.

Changmin can barely believe his eyes. He holds the sheet of paper on his shaking hands, mouth agape. He reads his teacher's words, the commentary on great technique, yet uncharacteristic lack of emotions. A couple mistakes were considered on this grading, although she didn't think they interfered with the overall picture the performance attempted to paint. She commended him on his good leadership, saying his perfectionism will take him far if he learns to match it with good sense, and not putting his body through more work than it can take. She affirms, unwavering certainty somehow weaved into her handwriting, her main complaint included how tired he looked. Regardless, she concludes, his technical prowess made him get a _seven_.

He's baffled when she pulls him in for a hug after giving him her feedback. He's baffled, and he doesn't want to cry in front of his class, doesn't want to risk them losing the ounce of respect they have for him, but she's so warm and he hasn't been hugged like this by someone who believes in him in so long. It builds up inside him until it comes down crumbling like a waterfall. Her embrace is steadily comfortable even through his sobs.

He's still sniffling when he goes back to his seat. Sunwoo hands him wet tissues he got from God knows where. 

"Thank you," Changmin whispers, his voice hoarse. He'll find time to be ashamed of this reaction later at night, file it under one of his too intense moments. Now, he'll focus on the happy, grateful emotions bubbling inside him. "For everything."

"I got you," Sunwoo whispers back, flashing him one of his signature triangular smiles.

Changmin almost cries all over again when the teacher announces their upcoming assignment is a solo piece. Instead, he texts Younghoon letting him know the good news and asking him about what they should do to celebrate. He thinks of texting the group chat — formerly called _tigers!_ , now renamed _three tigers one cow_ because they've found out Juyeon's chinese zodiac sign is Ox because he was born at the very beginning of the year of 1998 —, but changes his mind. 

He's been talking to them nonstop for a week, even though they only created the group as a more practical way to let everyone know they've arrived home safe. They have busy enough daily lives that it makes their conversations seem less obsessed and more organic, yet their initial chemistry only grows, and on the rare occasion the four of them are online they never run out of subjects to address. They're becoming a flirty friend group, or something more charged than that. Something muddy and ambiguous yet fervent.

Changmin wants to press pause on that. He's gonna go clubbing with his long time friend slash ex and things are going to be fine. He's heading home when his phone buzzes on his lap, _Gemini_ by Taeyeon as his new ringtone. 

"Younghoon hyung?" he answers. He unlocks the door to his house and drops his backpack on the living room couch. His sisters are nowhere to be seen, probably still at the flower shop. 

"I have a proposal," Younghoon says, bluntly, in lieu of a greeting. 

Changmin gulps down. They've been friends for time enough for him to know this means trouble. "Huh?”

"I told Youngkyun I was gonna go clubbing with you," Younghoon mutters, and that's not surprising. "I thought he'd be kinda mad, he doesn't quite know how this friendship with an ex works yet, even after I told him you have, like, four boyfriends now."

Changmin's eye twitches. "Your point?"

"He wasn't mad. He told me he wanted to go out today, and asked if he could bring his friend with him," Younghoon pauses, his penchant for drama showing, courtesy of his Leo sun and his theater background. "His friend is _Yoo Taeyang_."

Changmin feels his heart stop dead in his chest.

He hasn't heard this name in months, in years, ever since he's graduated from high school. His mind takes him back to that time in a realistic, vivid flashback. Taeyang is the leader of the dance club, an upperclassman, dreamy with his dark brown hair and his smart, understanding smiles and his perfect eyes and, fuck, the way he used to move was insane. He was so sharp, had so much charisma, and Changmin was a wide-eyed freshman in love with performing who, even then, never did anything by halves. He spent enormous amounts of time and energy to get Taeyang to notice him, notice his talent and recruit him to his club, in what Changmin thought was a perfectly platonic ordeal.

He was wrong, as most sixteen year olds usually are. He joined the dance club for around three months before his family started getting dangerously short on money and he had to start working part-time at a coffee shop, meaning not enough free time to commit to the club. Taeyang still tries to make time for him, to try and rehearse with him whenever they're both free, and they end up making out in the janitor's closet after the year ends. They begin a torrid, brief romance throughout summer break, hidden and elated in the way teenagers do best. 

Then Taeyang moves out of town because of his father's job and they never see each other again. 

For years, Changmin had held Yoo Taeyang as an idealized what-if, as the one non-Younghoon relationship Changmin's ever had that ended without conflict, without bad blood, without the complications of adulthood. It had been a dream come true which only came to an end because of distance. His sisters know about Taeyang, because they've been there for the entire mourning process. Hell, Changmin used to tell Younghoon his promises of only loving him and staying faithful would only work if Taeyang was not considered in the equation. 

"Changminnie? Are you alive?" Younghoon, bless him, calls. 

Changmin takes a deep, calming breath. "Hey, yeah. Yeah, I am. Do you think he remembers me?"

"I dunno. Youngkyun won't tell me anything," Younghoon says, dejected. "I don't think he's the type to date around, though, so he probably does. Are you okay with him coming?"

Changmin chuckles, giddy. " _Of course_ I'm okay with him coming. This is insane, hyung. You know this, right? Out of all the available gay men in Seoul, you had to pick the one friends with Taeyang."

"It's such a coincidence," Younghoon agrees. "Can you get ready in, like, an hour? I'll come pick you up."

"Sure!" Changmin confirms, excitement pulsing through his body. 

As he ends the call, though, he notices a few unread messages from the group chat, and his enthusiasm wavers. It's Juyeon, telling them it's one of his roommates' birthday and they'll celebrate it at _Insanity_ , letting them know they were invited if they didn't have any other plans. Kevin says he'll be there because he does not, in fact, have other plans, and Chanhee says he'll be there anyways, working, and they could chat when the workload became slower. 

There's still time for Changmin to tell Younghoon he won't be able to make it and head to _Insanity_. He doesn't fully enjoy the concept of Chanhee, Juyeon and Kevin celebrating and hanging out without him, having fun and getting drunk and bothering Juyeon's roommates until they spill embarrassing stories about him. He feels some type of way, like he's missing out on fun and they'll magically figure out they like the group better without him.

That's the problem, though. They've known each other for a week — Changmin's not supposed to feel _any_ type of way, he's not supposed to have insecurities about a couple acquaintances he met at the bar two blocks from his house his sisters go to when they want to get drunk off prosecco.

Besides, it's Yoo Taeyang. He'll go clubbing with _Yoo Taeyang_! 

And Younghoon, of course, whom Changmin hasn't seen in a while and loves very much. And Youngkyun, who probably hates Changmin with a burning passion, but maybe tonight will be enough to prove he's no longer interested in Younghoon. Hasn't been for a long time, now.

_hi!! i'll be going out with a couple of friends, but i hope you have the best time! send me ALL the selfies and embarrassing drunk voice notes. xx_

Changmin's thumb hovers over the send button for a beat too long before he presses it. 

...

Changmin dresses to kill. 

He begs his sisters for help, gives them a winded speech about how he's meeting the love of his life again after years of radio silence, except only his eldest caves in, the other one too exhausted to do anything other than changing into sleepwear and hibernating until next month. His makeup is sharp, heavy on eyeliner, his foundation making his skin look dewy and smooth with high, glowing cheekbones. His sister gives him a hand with contour, an art he's never quite mastered, and chooses his outfit. He ends up wearing a sleek, elegant black turtleneck with black leather pants too tight to wear outside before noon. It's perfect. 

It's even more perfect when Changmin walks out of Younghoon's sports car and spots Youngkyun standing at the sidewalk with a fidgety Yoo Taeyang next to him. He takes a look at Changmin and, there's no other way of saying it, his jaw drops.

"Hi, there," Changmin takes advantage of the promising reaction he's elicited, although it's almost impossible to keep up an unbothered, calm façade. 

Taeyang grew into himself beautifully, which is a lame thought that only mothers would have, but it's true. His body is perfect, now, he's wearing a dark green top with snug clear jeans and his hair slicked back. He's blonde, now, and it really compliments the color of his skin. "Long time no see."

Youngkyun chuckles. It's the first time he's ever sounded amused in Changmin's presence — this is going great! "Aren't you going to introduce yourself to my boyfriend, hyung?"

Taeyang and Younghoon exchange nervous greetings. They stand in line, waiting behind a particularly loud group of men, and Younghoon takes the time to tell Youngkyun how good he looks, and Youngkyun takes the time to tell Younghoon how good he looks, and they spiral like that for a long time, long enough so Taeyang and Changmin can catch up.

"You're such a big deal now," Taeyang comments, putting his hands on his pockets. "Studying at elite dance schools and shit. With a scholarship."

Changmin gasps in mock offense. "Are you saying I was not a big deal before?"

"No, not at all!" Taeyang shakes his head vehemently, sincerely, and the gesture reminds Changmin of Juyeon. How he'd take taunts seriously, how he's quick to reassure people around him whenever they say anything he considers self-deprecating.

Changmin hates his brain for even going there. "What are you saying, then?"

"I'm saying," Taeyang stares at him, full of intent. "That I think you're incredible. And I'm glad I've seen it before anyone else."

Changmin had forgotten how easy it was to be around Taeyang. The easygoing nature of his personality hasn't changed, and his smile is just as stunning as it used to be during high school. He talks about how he chose to major in fashion and how he was chosen to create costumes for countless theater companies, bringing back how passionate he is about any sort of performance art. 

(Changmin thinks of Chanhee and his daily mirror selfies, showcasing the outfits he wears for college. Thinks of Kevin commenting _you're wasting your time serving looks to get into a room with a bunch of nerds and do math_. Thinks of Chanhee replying _I need them to know I'm prettier and smarter than them_.)

The place is as crowded as you'd expect on a Friday night. The DJ is playing an electronic mix of songs with no vocals, you have to squeeze your way through the enthusiastic grinding at the dance floor to reach the bar. Neither Changmin nor Younghoon are big on clubbing, instead choosing to go to the movies or do small gatherings when they want to have fun or be social. However, this is an event, and sometimes they're in the mood for mindless drinks and dancing and chatting up random people in the bathroom. It's a gay club, too, meaning usually the most annoying thing going on is straight bachelorettes calling gay men they don't know "sis" or "girl".

"First round of drinks is on me," Taeyang claims as he turns to them. "Since this is a celebration."

Younghoon stares at Changmin, both his eyebrows raised. Taeyang comes from a middle class family, nothing particularly impressive or comfortable, and he can't be earning much more now, as hardworking and talented of an artist as he is, so the fact he wants to pay for their drinks is... quite sweet, actually. 

"What are we celebrating?" Youngkyun asks, and he actually directs the question towards Changmin, so he answers in detail as they order four martinis. He tells them about his lackluster performance, about how certain he was that it would cost him his scholarship and how he's found out he didn't do as poorly as he thought. His dream of being a professional dancer lives on to see another day. 

"I mean, I'm not surprised," Taeyang says after a sip of his drink. "You've always been like this, underestimating your skills. You were that good as a freshman, I can't imagine how amazing you must be now."

He sounds so genuine, it's almost like they're back at that dingy mirror room exchanging concerns about their future. Younghoon wraps an arm around Changmin's shoulders and grins, eyes gleaming with pride under the colorful strobe lights. He's ridiculously good-looking all the time, but it looks like all his inner beauty comes to surface when he smiles. "He is incredible."

"You're all using really big adjectives," Changmin snorts to cover up for the fact he wants to cry again.

"They're not lying, though," Youngkyun smiles at him, too — a tight-lipped, awkward thing, an olive branch. "You're really talented. I've seen the YouTube videos."

"Thank you," Changmin accepts the peace offering graciously. He feels like he accomplished something.

Younghoon pays for their second round of drinks. Him and Youngkyun are an interesting couple, because usually you'd see them all over each other, big on public demonstrations of affection despite the pointed glares and curious glances they'd get on the street. They're sappy, they do monthly anniversary celebrations, they take candid pictures of each other and post them on Instagram with lengthy captions full of loving words. From Youngkyun's end, at least — Younghoon just screams he has the best boyfriend in the world then uses a bunch of purple heart emojis. Seems to work for them, so Changmin doesn't judge.

Point being, he had expected them to stay in their own little world. When a friend asks to bring their significant other with them, they'll probably devote their attention to that person, and the friendly bonding time will be left for later. However, so far, tonight hasn't been like this. They've been talking about their lives, about their recent troubles, about Youngkyun's classmates and Taeyang's boss and Younghoon's co-star. 

Changmin opens his mouth to mention the group chat and closes it right away. He does so because, thinking about it, the story isn't as special as it feels. A Capricorn, a Scorpio, a Taurus and a Pisces walking into a bar: sounds like the beginning of a very boring joke, and not an amusing anecdote at all. A lot of people make friends in bars, even more often so after having a few drinks. They were wasted and either celebrating or mourning or doing their job and, sure, there have been building chemistry between them but that could be chalked up to the fact they're all very handsome individuals. It's not unusual, it's not destiny. 

Besides, Changmin's ordering his third martini now, and he's scared it'll seep through his voice how his relationship with them isn't strictly platonic. It'll be somehow written across his face that he made out with Choi Chanhee on his couch, on his apartment, at five in the morning, with both of them greasy and sweaty and smelling of cheap alcohol, until his roommate caught them. It'll be obvious that, even under those less than ideal circumstances, it was one of the best kisses he's ever had.

So he says nothing. He reacts, and if he reacts more enthusiastically to what Taeyang says, only God can blame him for his obvious flirting techniques. Taeyang has a stunning smile, he's hot and caring and perfect and no longer an idealized what-if. 

He's _real_ , he seems interested and Changmin wants him like crazy. "Can we dance?" he phrases the question to the group, not wanting to sound too eager. Taeyang nods, already pulling Changmin by his hand under the feeble guise of them not getting lost among the ever-growing crowd. Younghoon and Youngkyun join them, shuffle around the dance floor for five minutes until the amount of people squished together overwhelms them and they go snuggle in a corner.

"I'm kinda glad they're gone," Taeyang offers after they leave. They're right next to the DJ booth, so they're pressed flush against each other, yelling on each other's ears to be heard.

It takes away from the sexy build up Changmin was hoping for, but whatever. "Are you, now?"

"Yup," Taeyang puts one hand on the small of Changmin's back, the other on his shoulder. "I've been waiting to dance with you again for years."

Changmin grins, his heart pounding in sync with the trendy pop song blasting through the speakers. "Me too. There's not much room for dancing, though."

Taeyang laughs. "Not the only thing I wanted to do."

"Holy shit, you're a menace," Changmin runs his fingers through Taeyang's silky, glossy hair. 

Last Friday, Chanhee told him you can judge if a man will be a good kisser if he takes good care of his hair. Juyeon called his theory ridiculous, yet, seeing Taeyang now, Changmin can't help but wonder how true that is. 

He realizes the crowd has dispersed slightly around them as the DJ starts playing less bubbly, energetic tracks and more sultry, slow ones. Regardless, they remain close enough to count each other's lashes, Taeyang's eyes on Changmin's face, searching, seeking for a green light, a warm brand of hunger written on them. Taeyang is the one who pulls Changmin in for a kiss, one that's almost sluggish in its pace and certain in its intentions. For once, Changmin doesn't want to chase. He wants to be ravished, to be torn apart, and Taeyang's holding him like he wholeheartedly accepts the challenge.

Changmin doesn't regret whatever happened last Friday. However, he wishes it would've ended in a simple, easy way, similar to this — with him making out with someone hot, giddy and slightly buzzed. 

They part, and Changmin knows the words stumbling out of Taeyang's mouth before he even says it. 

"Do you wanna get out of here?"

...

Chanhee never knows what to do whenever he has a day off. 

He often chooses sleeping, because it's the obvious choice, and the one that speaks to his heart and soul more accurately. He's constantly on the run, busy with either college assignments or projects or his research group or his job, so he doesn't think he's to blame for wanting peace and quiet for once in his life. Keonhee tells him he's wasting a perfectly nice day stuck inside his room, goes on some silly extroverted spiel about knowing how to balance his obligations and his hobbies. Chanhee tells him his main hobby is napping and goes back to hiding under the covers. 

It's not like he's some sort of modern day equivalent of Scrooge, refusing to get out of the house unless the situation absolutely demands. Instead, the situation is that he's constantly exhausted and he hasn't been invited to anything interesting enough to make him get out of bed. _God_ , he can't wait to get paid to teach so he can stop serving drinks for a living. 

He has more important things to do with his nights, namely catch up on the Start Up episodes he hasn't seen yet so he can be upset that no man in his life will ever be Han Jipyeong.

So, it's a Saturday, it’s his day off and he's currently hunched over his Advanced Algebra notes while Lee Juyeon gives him a shoulder rub. Kevin and Changmin are playing Monopoly next to them, trying to be as silent as possible and failing miserably whenever Changmin has to spend money and screeches to express his indignation. Juyeon shushes them, as stern as a teacher, and applies more pressure to Chanhee's shoulders, nearly making him melt on the spot.

What in the world came over him to allow them to enter his safe space, his home, his turf?

They've been talking for three months now, yet it feels like it's been years. They're privy to information about Chanhee no one else in his life knows, which is a big deal, considering how he prides himself on being private, on not oversharing unless he's had one too many glasses of wine. More than that, they feel like a fixed part of his life, now, the way his neighbors and his mother and Keonhee and Hwanwoong are. They go to the movies, never know what to watch due to their contrasting tastes, end up choosing either musicals or slapstick comedy movies that are so bad they're almost enjoyable. 

They go to a music festival once, although their stay is shortened after Changmin eats some fucked up magic mushrooms. They've rented a cheap hotel room near the venue and slept together for the first time, with Juyeon trying to convince him Annabelle is not real and not trying to kill Kevin while Chanhee cackles. Kevin wrote a nice post about the music festival on his blog, focusing on the acts they got the chance to see, and left a cheeky warning about staying away from edibles.

Chanhee is, deep down, a romantic, and he has a traditional view on romance. The amount of Jane Austen novels he's read and is therefore obsessed with have warped his brain in an irreversible way, and he's spent his life hoping for a slow-paced, painfully intense romance. He wanted someone to be the Mr. Darcy for his Lizzie Bennet, and maybe a part of him still does, despite him deciding he'd better keep his appreciation for these tropes in the fictional realm.

The type of bond the four of them have is unlike any other Chanhee has heard of or experienced, and maybe that's why he tends to keep them at arm's length. It's not like he doesn't enjoy their presence or doesn't want to keep them around — the problem is, he wants to keep them around too much. He wants to drop by Changmin's flower shop unannounced, he wants to kiss Kevin while they wait for their shift to start in the break room, hell, he wants to make fun of Juyeon's self-help literature choices and kiss his frown away when he takes it seriously.

Chanhee knows, actually, why he told them to come. He could make excuses, say Keonhee and Hwanwoong went to a small gathering their friend was throwing and he was feeling lonely. He could say he studies better after a good massage, a dancer and a singer bickering in the background as white noise.

The truth is far more daunting than that: Chanhee wanted them here, so here they are. 

"Don't you wanna take a five minute break?" Juyeon asks, his hands coming to a halt as they reach a particularly tense point on Chanhee's back. "I could make you something."

Chanhee's mouth waters. It's been so long since the last time he's eaten homemade food. "Tempting."

"You work too hard," Juyeon pats his head, flashes him a kind, understanding smile. It's easy to be around him in these moments because, beyond being reliable and gentle with surprisingly skilled hands, he's the only other person who knows the specific agony that is attending university. Trying to graduate, despite horrible professors and a bigoted, elitist college environment and an overload of assignments. "Show me around the kitchen?"

Chanhee nods. Kevin and Changmin refuse when Juyeon asks them if they want food too, which isn't surprising — Changmin says he only eats food for sustenance, not taking any joy or comfort from it the way Chanhee does, and Kevin has been going on this weird low carb diet ever since he's started going to the gym. Now, with his constant gigs at Insanity, he has enough free time to engage in different activities. He's a part of Juyeon's book club, meeting every Wednesday at the city library with mostly teenage girls and middle aged women to talk about their chapter reading of the week. He's taking zumba classes, he's learning knitting and people are hiring him for bigger events, too, both as a singer and as a pianist. 

Chanhee lets Juyeon get acquainted with his kitchen, sitting at the table and fiddling with his phone, only looking up when Juyeon asks where to find a certain ingredient. He's decided he'll make kimchi pancakes with fried rice, simple and quick to make yet tasty and fulfilling enough since neither of them had lunch. Chanhee helps wrapping his fancy pink apron around Juyeon's waist, his chest swelling with fondness.

The dish is ready in no time and it tastes delicious, because God has decided to be unfair when creating Juyeon, giving him the spooky ability of being good at everything. "How's it?" he asks, smiling nervously. "Is it too spicy? I didn't know how you like it."

"It's perfect, Juyeonie. Thank you," Chanhee reassures him, putting one hand over his forearm for a brief moment before pulling away, sheepish. Everytime they're alone in a room, the atmosphere becomes charged, both in an awkward way and in a way that predicts action.

The action never comes, though. 

"Actually," Juyeon starts, scratching the back of his head. "Can we talk?"

Chanhee's heart starts thrashing against his ribcage. He loathes these four words, because no one ever says them when they have nice anecdotes to share. "Um, okay. Did I do something?"

"No, not at all..." Juyeon trails off, avoiding Chanhee's inquiring stare. "I did a thing, actually, and I wanted to check with you if that thing was okay?"

See? It's never good news. "Yeah, sure. What did you do?" Chanhee asks, as soft as he can manage.

Juyeon sighs. "Remember that one time a few weeks ago when Changmin was freaking out about his solo and you and Kevin were working so I went to his house to keep him company?"

Chanhee nods, because he does remember that day. He remembers Changmin's frantic texts, remembers aching throughout his shift, unsure of how to help him from afar, almost faking illness so Sangyeon would let him go home. It was the first time Kevin's singing ever sounded flat, bemused, his head in another universe altogether. They only managed to get themselves together after Juyeon sent a picture of him and Changmin watching _Parasite_ to the group chat. 

"When I got there, he was crying a lot and saying awful things about himself," Juyeon grimaces, as if even the memories of that moment pain him. "I didn't know what to do, so I told him what I thought was the truth, and tried not to hold back. I told him he was outstanding as a dancer. I reminded him of what his teacher had told him, about his worst enemy being his own distorted sense of self-worth."

"Which was very accurate," Chanhee comments. "And then?"

"He showed me a video of his rehearsal. I, um, I can't remember the exact words I said?" Juyeon frowns, his hands clenched into fists on his lap. "But... It was beautiful. It looked like he was doing magic, almost. With his body and his face and his eyes. So I told him something like that. And he kissed me. I kissed him back and we stayed like that for a while until I managed to stop him. He was vulnerable, you know? It didn't feel right."

"I see," Chanhee hums thoughtfully, resting his face on his hands. "I'm glad you told me, but I don't get how that wouldn't be okay?"

Juyeon tilts his head to the side, confused. "I know you and Changmin are close. You hang out more often, you live across the street from each other and you have a lot in common. I... thought you'd be together, by now."

Chanhee blinks. It's not a baseless assumption to make, because the two of them do spend a lot of time together. They went to a bracelet making workshop one time and Chanhee wears the one Changmin made him when he's feeling particularly lonely and ridiculous. They made out on Chanhee's couch and he still thinks about it before he goes to sleep. Their mutual understanding is effortless, only a shared glance to be aware of each other's moods. Changmin seems to guess Chanhee's needs even faster than Chanhee himself would, and it's a trait his previous romantic relationships lacked. They would, too often, put their needs over his, but with Changmin they're equals.

And yet, him kissing Juyeon does not bother him in the slightest. Maybe it's because he's seen it coming. Changmin isn't discreet about his appreciation for Juyeon, both in a physical attraction sense and in a general infatuation to who he is as a human being. Maybe it's because Chanhee has Kevin, who's smart and humble and great with words and buys him coffee, and his fear of being abandoned is lessened. 

Maybe it's because Chanhee cannot fault anyone who wants to kiss Lee Juyeon. He'd probably been perfect, too, at that moment, earnest and supportive and tender. So.

"I thought the same about you two, you know," Chanhee admits, lets a grin take over his face as he remembers the first hours of their friendship. "When we met, I thought you'd let him take you to bed, heterosexuality be damned."

Juyeon shrugs. "I thought he gave up because he was more interested in you? Or Kevin, but they fought a lot, even then, and I can't get a read on Kevin."

"Me and you both," Chanhee huffs. "I mean, I work with him, right? And I thought maybe there was something there but he treats everyone the same way! It's hard to figure out if he's interested or not."

Juyeon chuckles. "You talk about him treating everyone the same way like it's a bad thing."

"It kind of is," Chanhee mumbles, pouting. "Great for him, shows he's a decent person. Terrible for me, because then I have to ask him and asking is the worst."

Juyeon nods in agreement and stays silent for a few minutes, finishing his food. Chanhee is doing the same, munching on his pancakes, when Juyeon speaks again. "Chanhee?"

"Hm?" Chanhee mumbles, probably looking like a chipmunk. He finishes chewing and takes a sip of water.

"I have an idea," Juyeon smirks, seemingly excited by whatever it is that he thought of. "When do your roommates come back?"

...

Kevin is, as usual, trying not to panic.

Today has been a chill day. His muscles hurt in a satisfying way after his zumba classes in the morning, he's kicking Changmin's ass on Monopoly and Chanhee's apartment smells really nice. He's glad to be useful, although he's done nothing to help Chanhee with his studying problem so far. Juyeon's doing all the hard work, cooking for him and giving him massages and having long conversations with him in the kitchen Kevin absolutely does not try to listen to. Paying attention to anyone other than Changmin during games is nearly impossible, because he gets competitive. His treatment of this game is as if not having enough fictional properties means he'll be dead by midnight, and Kevin is scared and amused by it.

Paying attention to anyone other than Changmin is nearly impossible, if he's being honest with himself, but Chanhee and Juyeon manage to do just so when they sit near the coffee table with them, Chanhee next to Kevin and Juyeon next to Changmin. 

"Who's winning?" Chanhee says, resting his chin on Kevin's shoulder. His breath falters, ever so slightly. It's not only Chanhee's house that smells good — _Chanhee_ smells good, like strawberry and peppermint and sunlight.

"Kevin has more properties," Changmin says, glaring at him. "But he has less money!"

"I'll recover my money when you fall on my properties and pay me rent," Kevin retorts, showing his tongue like a twelve-year old. 

Changmin gives him a wide-eyed, irritated stare. "Over my dead body."

"Um, will you be done with your game anytime soon?" Juyeon asks.

"I don't think so," Kevin replies, moving his yellow pawn. "Monopoly always lasts forever. Why?"

"We wanted to play a game," Chanhee suggests, no longer lying against Kevin but still close enough that their knees touch. "Truth or Dare, maybe? I don't think we ever played this one and it's a classic and I'm bored of Algebra already."

Changmin tuts. "The sheer lack of academic responsibilities..."

"Fuck you," Chanhee leans across the coffee table, almost sending the Monopoly board crashing down as he slaps Changmin across the head. "So, are you guys in, or?"

Kevin has never heard of a Truth or Dare game not ending with chagrin, tears or general suffering. "Sure," he says, though, because Chanhee asked.

"I'm in too," Changmin turns to Kevin and squints. "I'll kick your ass on this one."

"Changmin, there's no winners to Truth or Dare," Juyeon giggles, his eyes disappearing into crescents. 

Changmin grins darkly. "Watch me. Who's starting?"

"I can start," Juyeon begins. "Chanhee? Truth or dare?"

Chanhee hums, deep in thought. "Truth, I think."

Changmin boos. "Weak!"

"Very weak," Juyeon agrees, earning an indignant scoff from Chanhee. "Alright. I'll give you a nice one. You'd rather have fame, power or money?"

"Money," Chanhee deadpans without thinking twice. "Money is power in a capitalist society like ours, and fame seems like a hassle. Kevin? Truth or dare?"

Kevin sputters, not expecting to be called so early. He hasn't decided how he's going to approach this game. Should he be brave, courageous? Should he stay in his lane, safe and comfortable and not at the risk of panicking or embarrassing himself? "Um, truth." 

"This is a question that could be awkward. Feel free to not answer if you don't want to," Chanhee warns, kindly. "Would you kiss anyone in here, ever?"

Kevin freezes. Now, he guesses, is the exact time to choose what route he'll take. Being straightforward about his desires might give him short-term pleasure, knowing how those types of games always end up with people either hooking up or at least being aware of who wants to hook up with them. Deciding to not answer would make him look like a coward, but it would also be an act of self-preservation. He already cherishes these people too much to be safe, and crossing this line between them has no take backs.

"Yeah," Kevin decides, thinking of his plans for his early adulthood arc, of discoveries and accomplishments and adventures, and assures himself this is only a small indulgence. Besides, normal people kiss their friends sometimes. It'll be fine. "I would."

Chanhee and Juyeon exchange an obvious look, and Chanhee has enough self-control to not show any visible reactions but Juyeon grins, bright and self-satisfied.

Kevin is thoroughly confused. What does Juyeon care what Kevin would or wouldn't do? Isn't he straight? 

Kevin wants to ask him what's that about, if he's had a recent change of mind when it comes to his sexuality, as it happens so frequently. However, he doesn't want to be invasive, to push someone out of the closet, regardless of the trusting friendship they've built over the last months. Kevin experienced firsthand how coming to terms with your own sexuality is hard, can go against principles and morals instilled in you from birth. 

He needs to be careful about this. He's clever enough to be careful, right?

"Juyeon," Kevin calls, hopes his voice doesn't shake. "Truth or dare?"

Juyeon raises his eyebrows. "Dare."

Changmin whoops in glee. "Hell yeah! Someone who's not a coward."

"Um, alright," Kevin stutters, caught off guard. He hadn't expected a dare in the first round. An idea comes up inside his head and he decides to go for that instead and hope for the best. "I'll just repeat what Chanhee said, that you don't have to do this if you're not comfortable. It's okay."

"Boring," Changmin mutters.

Kevin shoots him a glare, although it barely works as an intimidating tactic. He's too nervous to be threatening. "If you'd kiss someone in this room, go ahead and do it. If you wouldn't, stay where you are."

Silence stretches between them as Juyeon seems to contemplate the request. Kevin almost takes it back, almost makes up another dare, one that's harmless, but Juyeon sits up straighter, turns to Changmin and kisses him. 

It's not surprising. There had been that moment at Insanity when they first met then countless moments after that. Juyeon is hot and Changmin has not wasted a single chance of letting him know he'd be interested. Kevin still gapes, though, because of how fast they get wrapped up in themselves, Juyeon sucking in Changmin's tongue, Changmin's hands on the nape of Juyeon's neck. It's almost as if they've done this before.

Kevin shouldn't assume. Kevin also shouldn't stare like this.

He's doing both, sue him.

When they part, Changmin fans himself, an insufferable grin on his face, his lips slightly red. He notices Kevin's gaze and blows him a kiss. 

Kevin looks away and sees, with growing terror, that Juyeon has moved to his side of the table. He places himself in front of Chanhee, looking a little bit more nervous than he was before. The two of them are an odd pair — they can come off as stilted, sometimes, on their one-on-one interactions. Although they do enjoy being around each other, they seem to have quite distinct ways of dealing with their troubles and it hinders their communication. Their bond is clumsy, yet painfully earnest.

So Kevin is surprised when they start kissing, yes, except not really. Chanhee is stunning, no one in their right mind would not want to kiss him, and Juyeon is going to be a lawyer, so he's smart. He's smart in the way he pulls Chanhee close, their kiss slower, more deliberate and gentle. Chanhee pulls back with a sigh, realizing he almost crawled into Juyeon's lap.

" _Dude_ ," Changmin breathes out. Kevin agrees with the sentiment. He feels quite _dude_ , himself. 

Here's how Kevin figures the rest of the game will go: Juyeon will go back to his place, because there's no way in hell he'll want to kiss Kevin after those two. He doesn't think of himself as unattractive, thinks he can be charming and pretty and personable when asked of him, but he does think of Juyeon as someone who's _too_ attractive. Way out of his league, the same way supermodels and beauty influencers are. They'll keep on playing the game, he'll get a cheeky kiss from Changmin who has no sense of shame, he'll spill a mortifying secret without meaning to, Chanhee will laugh at him, they'll all go home.

Here's how the rest of the game actually goes: Juyeon stops right in front of Kevin, stopping the entirety of his brain functions, stealing the air out of his lungs. This could only mean one thing, and that thing is obvious when Juyeon cups his face, his eyes molten pools boring into Kevin's soul.

"No way," he murmurs. 

The last time they stood this close was months ago and they were both drunk. Juyeon chuckles, as if the same memory just occurred to him. "Can I...?"

Kevin's brain cells might be permanently fried at this point, yet he has the presence of mind to nod slightly. Juyeon catches his lips in a kiss that starts delicate and builds in tempo, Juyeon's — large — hands on his waist, and Kevin isn't Choi Chanhee and does not have half the amount of self-control he does, so he fully climbs into Juyeon's lap, forgetting himself entirely. It's as if something inside him snaps, unhinged, untethered. 

He hasn't kissed anyone he actually _wanted_ in so long. Someone so thoughtful and warm, even longer. 

They break apart, breathless and pink in the face. Changmin snorts. "You had to pull a little stunt, didn't you?"

Juyeon smiles at him, dazed. A tiny, immature voice inside Kevin's head chirps, _I did that_.

"Who's it, now?" Kevin asks, looking around like nothing happened. 

"It's Juyeon's turn to choose. Did he kiss the brains out of you?" Chanhee quips, smirking.

Kevin laughs. They're all so smiley and they should address it.

"I'm glad this is happening," _Changmin_ addresses it, of course. "I haven't had friends I could make out with in so long. My best friend is my ex, and he has a boyfriend."

"We were wondering, in the kitchen," Chanhee tells them. "It came down to knowing whether Kevin would be interested. Juyeonie suggested we should try a game, and spin the bottle is too on the nose."

Kevin sputters. He doesn't know what part of that sentence is more absurd, but... "You, too?"

Chanhee smiles at him, his eyes shining pretty, and gives him a quick peck on the lips. "You're stupid."

"I must be," Kevin says, tasting kimchi pancake on his lips. "I must be."

...

Juyeon's plans for the future — focusing on his career, avoiding new interpersonal relationships — are dropping around him like flies.

Although his actions are overall thought out and controlled, sometimes he acts out of impulse. For instance, when Haknyeon broke up with this girl who was a therapist and Juyeon left her terrible Yelp reviews with a bunch of different fake accounts after taking a couple beers. When Jaehyun got led on by a man who had a secret girlfriend and Juyeon messaged her to let her know she was dating a sniveling lying bastard. When a burly man was bothering Juhyun at the subway and Juyeon punched him across the face so hard he broke his nose. When Juyeon found out Juhyun cheated on him, broke up with her, told her to never address him again and blocked her number. When, before moving out of his old apartment, he spat on the kimchi stew his roommate was preparing.

Anger is what usually prompts his moments of recklessness. He spits, he punches, he blocks numbers, he attempts at ruining careers and relationships.

A couple weeks ago, he had acted on impulse again. He was at Chanhee's place in order to keep him company and help him study and he ended up kissing him. Him, and Changmin, and Kevin, whom Juyeon had thought was either not interested or deeply unaware of the effect he can cause on people. 

So, Juyeon's most recent moment of recklessness was not prompted by anger. It was prompted by fondness, by curiosity, by the need of making a grand gesture. Maybe because Juyeon is a textbook Capricorn, set in his ways and organized and easy to foretell, most people think they know what to expect from him. He gets a sick satisfaction in proving them wrong, in showing them he can be unpredictable too. Also, he wanted to know whether his newfound attraction to men would bring him to kiss them and like it.

Turns out — he did. He _does_ , because his most recent moment of recklessness, regardless of his motives, created a shift on the dynamic between the four of them to the point of no return. Case in point, where he is, now.

He's inside Kevin's bedroom, his notebook on Kevin's desk. Changmin is wrapped on Kevin's sheets, wearing loose green pajamas and playing Angry Bird on his phone. Chanhee is at work, because it's a Friday night and Sangyeon needed his help. He's their best bartender, after all.

Juyeon is there because he has a couple reports he needs to finish typing up for his internship and Haknyeon is having a few people over, around four or five people from his class who are just as loud and boisterous as he is. Juyeon complains about it on the group chat, Kevin invites him to sleep over. 

Haknyeon teases him, talks about Kevin in a sing-song voice and wonders when he'll get to meet Changmin, which is far too dangerous to ever be a possibility. Jaehyun doesn't say anything, only tells him to have fun, but when Juyeon opens his backpack he finds a bunch of condoms he absolutely did not put there and a note telling him to be safe, just in case. He's agile enough to hide the condoms in a more discreet pocket because if Changmin found out about them, Juyeon would never hear the end of it. 

"Hey," Kevin places a casual hand on the side of his neck, too light to be a caress, too gentle to be unintentional. "How's it going?"

Juyeon looks up at him. He's just changed into his sleepwear, dark blue shorts with a pattern of silver moons embroidered on it, and his hair is still damp from the shower. "I'm almost done."

" _Keviiiiin_ ," Changmin whines, opening his arms like a toddler asking to be picked up. "Get over here so I can smell you."

Kevin chuckles, making his way to bed and tucking himself in. "Weirdo."

"I like your shampoo," Changmin says, sniffing at Kevin's neck as a pet would, with Kevin indignantly (weakly) trying to push him away.

Juyeon focuses on finishing his report. If Chanhee was here, he'd have his cheeks squished against Juyeon's shoulders, staring at the computer screen and only speaking up to point out spelling mistakes. Juyeon would point out he's heard STEM majors have terrible grammar and Chanhee would point out, matter-of-factly, that not knowing when to use certain particles does not mean he's illiterate, and Juyeon would laugh and move on with his work. Without Chanhee here, Juyeon has to gather inhuman amounts of focus to tune Kevin and Changmin out to proof-read his assignment. He needs to make sure his references are on point and his writing is adequate and his point is coming across, because the teacher for this subject is really strict. His last assignment did not get graded well and he didn't want a repeat of that. 

For someone who's about to become a lawyer, the process of actually having to memorize the laws is so boring to him. He finishes the last paragraph, sends Jaehyun an e-mail asking for his opinion and closes his notebook. Juyeon tells himself he's doing it because he has spent enough time today reading articles and attempting to string sentences together, and not because he wants to snuggle in bed with his friends.

Because that would be ridiculous. Kevin's bed wouldn't even fit him — it barely fits Changmin, which is why he's wrapped around Kevin like an octopus, arms around his chest, legs tangled together. 

"I'm done," Juyeon announces. 

Changmin grins at him, dimples on display. "Come here, then."

"I'm too big," Juyeon tries not to sound too dejected. He appreciates physical contact, in particular if it's with people he trusts and feels comfortable with. 

"We could make a makeshift bed in the living room," Changmin says, untangling himself from Kevin to stand up. 

Kevin snorts. "How do you even make that?"

"A couple cushions, fluffy blankets, a spare mattress if you have one. We'll mostly sleep on the floor, but it's gonna be comfortable," Changmin explains as he reaches for his flip-flops that slipped under the bed. "Stay right here. I'll provide that for us, and then we'll lay around watching Netflix's horror movies. Which are terrible, by the way, but Kevin's gonna find them funny because his sense of humor sucks."

"Hey!" Kevin brings his hands to his chest in mock offense. "I'll let you know, my sense of humor is _incredible_."

"Said no one," Changmin retorts cheekily, leaning against the doorway like the Cheshire cat would rest on a tree branch. "Anyways. No funny business until I'm done."

He bolts towards the living room before they can say a word in protest. Kevin looks at Juyeon, a playful glint in his eyes as he taps the spot next to him on the bed. Juyeon had in mind he'd have the perfect reaction if this was to happen, something neither too eager nor too nonchalant. His brain completely sabotages his plans, though, and he scrambles to sit next to Kevin like a victorian man seeing a woman's ankles for the first time.

Kevin giggles. "Never been in a man's bed before?"

"I've been to Changmin's," Juyeon says without much thought, then rushes to clarify after Kevin gives him an alarmed stare. "Not like that."

"His bed is way more dangerous than mine, dude," Kevin says, still smiling, then turns his body towards Juyeon. "Are you okay with sleeping over? You told me it's been a while since you've spent the night at someone else's place. I know we stayed at that hotel the other night, but this is different, I think."

It is different, in fact. Hotels lack in personality, a random room they only rented so they wouldn't sleep in the middle of the sidewalk. Here, Juyeon can get acquainted with Kevin's house, and a person's home can say a lot about them. Kevin has his art supplies piled up on top of a desk inside his bedroom, has all his instruments and CDs stored on what's supposed to be a guest room, there are a bunch of Canada souvenirs and psychology-related books on a shelf in his living room. 

That's an intimacy gesture, letting anyone in a place that's so glaringly him, his identity written all over it. 

Juyeon has no idea how the fuck he's got to this point. When this year began, he had told himself he would never love again. He would never allow another human to touch him, to reach for his heart, to break down his walls, because as soon as things go wrong it becomes too much to bear. 

The worst part is, the bad memories aren't what haunts him the most. The cheating, the lying, the disrespect, the fights over nothing — none of that. What sends his mind reeling is, for instance, when he's at the book club with Kevin and one of their older colleagues voices an old-fashioned opinion and they share a look and Juyeon remembers the earlier stages of his relationship with Juhyun, where they would speak without words. 

It's the good memories. It's getting whatever giddy feeling he's having now and a somber voice on the back of his mind whispering you've been through this before, and look how it ended. That voice has been following him ever since he first stepped inside this apartment, although it is easier to drown it out with Kevin so close to him. 

Juyeon finds it odd, how they're so different yet surprisingly alike. "It's being nice. You're a great host."

"I hear a but," Kevin points out, attuned to mood variations as he is. 

Juyeon shakes his head. "No buts. I'm glad I'm here."

"And I'm glad you're here," Kevin smiles at him, warm and sincere and smelling of lemongrass. His shampoo. 

Juyeon kisses him, which, yeah, is exactly how their relationship shifted. He doesn't know how or when they've decided — all four of them — they'd be getting physically intimate with each other because there was a mutual attraction going on and they'd be stupid to ignore it. Their existing friendship made it easy for them to reach out for one another without fearing awkwardness. Despite their constant back-and-forth, Kevin and Changmin had taken advantage of this arrangement the most, with Changmin never scared of making the first move and Kevin never ashamed of complying. 

A part of Juyeon expected to be either a third wheel or a third something, today. He's glad he was wrong about the first option, even though he might be too tired to engage with the second. He's perfectly content with lazy kisses and warm embraces, thank you very much.

"No funny business!" Changmin exclaims once he's back inside the bedroom, hands on his waist. 

Juyeon stops kissing Kevin to catch his breath, but also to glare.

Changmin shows his tongue. "Don't make that face. This is a respectable home with rules."

"This is not your house," Kevin reminds him, his voice coming out airy. It's cute.

Changmin ignores him. "So, like the good host I am, I made a bed for the three of us, so let's go see if it's comfortable enough."

Changmin's found two thin spare mattresses and made them fluffier with a thick layer of blankets and sheets and cushions. There's more than enough space for the three of them — for the four of them, except Chanhee wouldn't approve of sleeping on the floor, at least not at first. They open Kevin's Netflix account, pick The Babysitter: Killer Queen as their bad comedy-leaning horror movie of choice. Kevin falls asleep halfway through it despite Changmin's neverending commentary and Juyeon expects to do the same, except his thoughts always catch up with him as the night evolves. 

He shouldn't be here, he thinks. He has persevered through Haknyeon's gatherings before, locking himself inside his room and letting his study playlist block the noise. He's playing a dangerous game, convincing himself maybe giving away his trust isn't so bad if he gives it to them. He promised himself he'd only ever engage with anyone in romantic connotations ever again if the opportunity presented itself to him, insistent and irrefutable. What's less insistent and irrefutable than three busy, employed men you meet at a bar?

Juyeon could have put the same distance between them as he put one between him and Sihyeon. He doesn't know why he didn't do it, and that's never a good sign.

"Juyeon," Changmin whispers. On the television, the credits are rolling. "Are you alright?"

Juyeon nods. Kevin's in a deep, deep slumber between them. "I just can't sleep."

"We could talk," Changmin suggests. He grabs the remote, pauses the movie, switches to the main screen and leaves it there. "Or we could watch something else. What do you usually do when you're not sleeping?"

Juyeon shrugs. "Nothing. I just stare at the ceiling and wait until my brain decides to let me sleep."

"I can see something's bothering you, though," Changmin says, tentatively. "If you wanna talk about it, I'm listening. Not gonna sleep anytime soon."

"Is something bothering you?" Juyeon asks, instead, deflecting.

"Nah," Changmin replies. "My ballet teacher has the flu so I didn't have class today. Now spill."

Juyeon doesn't want to talk about his past, about his ex, with anyone. Talking about her in Kevin's apartment, next to two people who already mean so much to him, feels like he's dumping a figurative bucket of mud all over the floor. Like he's putting a jinx or whatever it is going on between them.

However, if there's a person Juyeon would rather tell, it's Changmin. That feeling Juyeon has had when they first met, of knowing him from past lives, carried on as their friendship developed. Changmin feels familiar, feels like coming home to a warm mug of coffee and the faint sound of the news playing in the background and loving glances and comfortable silence. It's easy, being with him, opening up to him.

He never had to win Juyeon's trust, because it feels like he's always had it. So. "Sometimes I think I'm never getting over my ex-girlfriend. That's what's bothering me."

Changmin's smile fades, the red light of the Netflix logo shining on his face in a way almost cinematic. In the dark, it's harder to tell what he's thinking. "Do you still love her?"

"Ah, no, I don't think I do," Juyeon answers, contemplative. He tries not to lie, beat around the bush or omit information. Maybe it'll all feel better if he elaborates upon his emotions. "Our relationship was terrible, Changmin. At some point, things turned sour, and I tried to save a sinking ship because I wanted us to work but I stopped loving her before we broke up."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Changmin says, stretching to grab Juyeon's hand without interrupting Kevin's sleep. 

Juyeon doesn't let go. "It's okay. We were good for each other, once, I'm not saying we weren't. It's just that it feels like I'll never get over what she did to me. I'll never get over being betrayed by someone I trusted so much, with my whole life. I'll never... be able to get close to someone else without thinking it's gonna happen again."

His voice trembles at the end of his sentence, sad and small. He's never said that out loud, even to Haknyeon and Jaehyun who were so interested and supportive. It felt pathetic, a harsh corner of his brain telling him he's a grown man and silly hiccups such as a broken heart shouldn't weaken him. He has this deep-seated obsession with looking strong, reliable, unwavering.

He's seen Changmin waver, though. He's seen him break down in tears, hide his face with his hands and sob until he has to stop and catch his breath. And not once Juyeon stopped thinking Changmin was one of the strongest, most hardworking people he knew. 

Perhaps that's why it's easy to just say it. 

Changmin holds his hand with both of his and presses a small kiss on top of it. 

Juyeon's breath catches on his throat. The warmth inside him threatens to cover him whole, and the steady sound of Kevin's snoring makes it worse.

"I dated a guy, once," Changmin starts, staring deep into his eyes. "It was so silly. I had just broken up with my high school girlfriend and I got on Tinder looking for a rebound. Then I started talking to him and it was nice, really nice, even though I knew he only wanted an easy fuck. But I was, I don't know, fragile? I wanted to make sure someone could like me, could love me, so I became insecure. After our dates, I asked if he liked hanging out and his answers would be either dry or dirty. He dumped me over text, telling me I was clingy and too intense and that I needed to find someone who could handle me because he surely couldn't."

Listening to that makes Juyeon go through an array of different emotions.

Anger is a given, distinguished in its fiery force, indignant questions of how can people be so fucking evil, why would a person spit those cruel words to anyone. Juyeon rarely experiences hatred, yet he feels it flooding his bloodstream, thanking the heavens above for the fact he'd never meet this man in his life or else he'd give him more than a broken nose. He thinks of Changmin back then, straight out of high school, wanting a meaningful connection to call his. Still smart, loving, cheerful, easy to be around, and fondness fills Juyeon up to his core.

Then, after the rush of almost primal feelings, he considers what should be his next words. He wishes Chanhee was here, because he understands Changmin well, they communicate even better. They seem to share brain cells, sometimes, and Chanhee would be able to craft effective ways to assure Changmin of how likable, how lovable he is, if he doesn't know it already. Chanhee's so clever, his sharp mind working faster than all of theirs, yet he uses his powers for the greater good. He's helpful, he's kind, he cares beyond his responsibility, and hanging out with him makes Juyeon feel known.

It's ridiculous that he makes a realization this big in a situation like this. 

He can't pull Changmin in for a kiss because Kevin's lying between them and this moment feels so delicate and it includes Kevin, somehow. He's sleeping, the TV light shining on his face, so serene and peaceful, the complete opposite of what he looks like when he's awake. Chanhee's mind works fast but he knows how to order these thoughts and filters them — Kevin doesn't. His thoughts are sensations and impressions and feelings and they slip out of his mouth before his brain can catch up with him and warn him, no, don't say that.

 _Shit_. 

"He was wrong," Juyeon croaks out, overwhelmed. Unapologetically weak. 

Changmin smiles, mellow. "I know. And we're not your ex-girlfriend, the same way you're not mine."

Juyeon almost flinches with how bluntly Changmin says it. Unafraid to address there's something going on, not only between the two of them but between the four of them, too. Juyeon smiles back, smaller, less brave. "I know."

...

Changmin's way of dealing with relationships is different from most.

This doesn't disturb him, considering he has more unusual tastes than what's considered appropriate. His therapist tells him this is in no way reason for him to take shame on what he likes, as long as he's not hurting anyone, he's free to be his true self. However, among the reasons why his past relationships haven't worked, beyond being a magnet for assholes, is one very particular thing.

To address this very particular thing, he'll have to elaborate upon the one ex of his he doesn't hate.

He'll have to talk about _Younghoon_.

He doesn't like doing that. Whenever Changmin contemplates on his past relationship with Younghoon, he imagines a tiny Youngkyun with his arms folded across his chest, staring daggers at him. Before Younghoon, Changmin would've agreed upon the fact people _can't_ be friends with their exes, not on a deeper level. There's memories, there's resentment, there's so much baggage to unpack it's not worth the drama.

His thing with Younghoon has always been different, though. The story of their first meeting is not romantic — they met at a party, there was instant chemistry between them and they had messy sex in a bathroom then even messier sex in Younghoon's hotel room. It was a mindblowing session, despite their inebriated states, mindblowing enough that he asked for Changmin's number and they turned into friends with benefits.

Chanhee's gonna laugh when he hears that: he loves modern romance tropes.

Changmin and Younghoon became one, almost. They went on several dates, at the movies and at the amusement park and at the zoo, and they always ended in bed. Changmin misses going to the zoo, by the way, but Kevin's morally against the concept of zoos and made Changmin feel guilty for wanting to see the giraffes.

Anyways, it started happening in such a cliché rhythm Changmin felt like he was in a romcom. They harbored a platonic appreciation for one another and a pungent physical attraction and it was so easy to blur the lines and call it a lifetime romance. So easy to mistake the affection in Younghoon's eyes as love. So easy to accept when he asks, dropping on one knee, Leo dramatics in full display, if Changmin would be his official boyfriend.

Their relationship starts off lovely, their honeymoon phase lasting for around two entire months, a record for both Changmin and Younghoon. There's trust and respect and fondness and they have fun together and it seems perfect until it isn't.

So, Younghoon prefers monogamous relationships. He prefers his love to be one hundred percent devoted, all-encompassing, soul-shattering, one for the history books. Changmin used to crack jokes, blame it on his rich, suburban upbringing — Younghoon _despises_ sharing. He has enough love inside him to singlehandedly power an entire town, but he can be competitive. He prefers monogamous relationships, and this isn't a problem.

Except there becomes a point, right before Changmin gets accepted into dance school, when he realizes he does _not_ prefer monogamous relationships.

Another reason why he doesn't love elaborating upon his relationship with Younghoon, because Changmin feels compelled to pinpoint their different leanings as one of the reasons they didn't work, and people assume the worst of him right away. That he broke off a perfectly nice relationship because he couldn't keep it inside his pants, that he's a vicious slut who doesn't deserve happiness.

Changmin always knew, in a way, what he wanted from a relationship. He wanted a blend between intensity and freedom, he wanted enough love to go around, he wanted someone to understand him and trust him enough to let them both have this. He wants a relationship where his partner can sit down with him and tell him they're attracted to someone at work, they have feelings for their classmate. The skeptic in him feels like those situations are unavoidable. He can't stop his significant other from living, from meeting people and maybe falling for them, so it would be better if they could be honest about this. He's obsessed with the concept of adoring someone so much you'll trust them to pursue other people while what they feel for you remains unchanged.

Changmin always knew what he wanted from a relationship, but he had thought of it as too farfetched to seek. Younghoon wants to be monogamous, exclusive, and he won't let go of this, so Changmin says yes.

Their breakup is organic. Changmin gets into his dance school, fulfills part one of his dream, and Younghoon is immensely proud of him until it means they'll no longer spend as much time together as they used to. Younghoon asks him if he'd rather have an open relationship during one of their almost-arguments and Changmin also says yes, because he's tired and he needs to be honest with his friend.

Then there's the realization, plain and simple, they work better as friends. The role of boyfriend puts an unhealthy amount of pressure on them to perform a certain way, and it dampers the earnest foundations of their friendship. It makes them forget why they became close in the first place.

Younghoon raises the possibility of them never having had romantic feelings for each other in the first place. Changmin's slightly hurt, even though he has no right to be. He continues to be hurt as their friendship continues, with no sex this time around, and Younghoon describes their relationship as a _group hallucination_. Sure, they were both very confused, but... It was very real, for Changmin.

It's irrelevant, he thinks. Younghoon means no harm when he says those things and Changmin's not even that bothered, so he says nothing. Their friendship is the most stable thing he has going on in his life right now, and he casually mentions the fact he's close with his ex to his, um, _new friends_ . Because _new friends he makes out with sometimes and has maybe developed strong feelings for_ is a mouthful.

Case in point: whenever Younghoon isn't busy, he drops by to keep Changmin company and to buy Youngkyun flowers with cheesy meanings, because he's a sap. Whenever Chanhee isn't busy, he does the same.

Fate has decided that on a windy September day, their schedules would match.

Younghoon gets there first and he's telling a ridiculous story about his first time meeting Youngkyun's grandparents and Changmin is cackling, clutching his stomach as tears fall from his eyes. The bell chimes, but its sound is drowned by their raucous laughter.

"Good... morning?" Chanhee stands at the entrance, eyebrows raised.

Changmin beams, mood brightened just by seeing him. "Don't sound so confused, it's just me!"

"I'm always confused seeing you," Chanhee quips. He's dyed his hair black with platinum blonde strands and he's as beautiful as ever, the sun shining on him as he walks closer to the counter. "Are you busy?"

"Um, not now," Changmin says, then realizes Younghoon has been looking between him and Chanhee like a puppy waiting for permission to sleep with its owner on their bed. "Ah, let me introduce you guys. This is Younghoon hyung, my headache. This is Chanhee, my other headache."

Realization crosses Chanhee's face. "You're Younghoon?"

Younghoon blinks. "Yeah. That's what he said."

"Nice to meet you," Chanhee greets him with his customer service voice.

 _Uh-oh_ , Changmin thinks. His customer service voice outside work means _fuck you_.

"Nice to meet you too," Younghoon greets him back, oblivious. "Changmin talks about you a lot."

Okay, maybe not _that_ oblivious. Chanhee perks up visibly at that. "Does he, now?"

"We meet every day for coffee so I can think of a reason to kick you out of our friend group," Changmin teases.

He prides himself in being a peacemaker. Sure, he's not the most extroverted person in the world, but he can make do with the cards that are given to him, and aiming to be a professional dancer has taught him how to navigate a multitude of difficult social scenarios. He can be thrown in a room with people who can't stand each other's guts and buffer their interactions so there's no murder until they do what they have to do. He's prevented Sunwoo from punching so many faces through the past two years it's not even funny anymore.

Changmin uses his abilities for the greater good, although this situation doesn't demand it. Chanhee and Younghoon are pretty similar in the subtle ways they call for Changmin's attention, except this is a flower shop and he is still on the clock, so they _have_ either to engage in conversation or stay silent while he helps his clients. Turns out Chanhee had seen a play Younghoon was in and begrudgingly admitted he was very good at it. Younghoon wants to dye his hair something colorful after he finishes filming for a webdrama he was casted on, which Changmin already knew about, and Chanhee gives him tips on how to care for his hair even with a packed schedule.

Younghoon stays for around an hour more before he remembers he has to stop at Youngkyun's house before filming to give him his new yellow pansies, leaving Chanhee and Changmin all by themselves.

"So..." Chanhee begins, only innocent for those who don't know him. "That's your ex?"

"That's my ex," Changmin replies while repositioning some of the flowers so they can get enough sunlight on them. He considers himself lucky for taking care of plants as a living because he finds the act quite soothing.

"He's handsome," Chanhee says.

His attempts at acting casual and nonchalant are tragic. Changmin decides to put him out of his misery. "Ask what you want to ask, Chanhee."

"Fine," he puts one hand on his waist, the other on the counter. "Are you fucking each other?"

If Changmin was drinking something, he would've choked. "Gross! He has a boyfriend, you psycho! He's been talking about the dude _ever since he got here_."

"Huh," Chanhee exclaims, sincerely taken aback. "I guess I wasn't paying attention when he said that."

"Of course you weren't," Changmin says, soft and amused. "Why's that?"

Chanhee shrugs, sits on the small bench right next to the peonies. "I don't know. You looked close."

"Well, duh," Changmin says, sitting next to him. "He's my best friend, of course we'll look close. Doesn't mean we're fucking. Which is, by the way, a really crude way of referring to the act of lovemaking."

"I don't need to be hearing this from you," Chanhee retorts, arms folded across his chest, looking out of the window. "Even if you did, though. You owe me nothing. I shouldn't have asked."

Changmin sighs. He doesn't lack experience navigating jealousy, both his own and his past partners', but his relationship with Chanhee is different. They're attached at the hip ever since they met and their mutual understanding is impeccable and they're involved in a platonic, sexual, potentially romantic clusterfuck with two other people. It's odd Chanhee would feel jealousy towards Younghoon and not bat an eyelash when Changmin and Kevin start making out right next to him.

It's even more odd when Changmin's memory starts working and he remembers it's not the first time a situation like this has occurred. 

Last month, Kevin took him to this art exhibit, a contemporary artist who made paintings and installments based on her favorite horror book series. The pieces weren't beautiful to look at — gory, harsh, deep reds and faded greys and rotten green — yet they were fascinating, thought-provoking in how fear seemed to radiate off of them. The artist explained they were attempting to get into the character's psyche and represent that somehow, express what must one feel while living their worst nightmares. Kevin has lots of opinions, as he so often does, although his observations are mostly positive, and they stop by a cafe next to the museum to keep talking about it. 

Changmin was delighted by both the exhibit and the opportunity of hanging out with Kevin, so he didn't pay attention to the pink elephant in the room until it was, quite literally, standing in front of him. Carrying a tray, a smile on his face and wearing a cute little waiter uniform. Taeyang greeted him, his grin faltering ever so slightly when he saw Kevin, and they started engaging in small talk until Taeyang had to get back to work.

Kevin had asked who was that, in a tone way more unassuming than Chanhee. So Changmin told him about the whole ordeal, about their summer romance and how it ended and how they had a brief revival. Then Kevin had asked, again, sounding very calm and curious, if there was any chance Changmin would want to rekindle that flame, romantically speaking. Changmin doesn't say no, you absolute buffoon, I'm too busy crushing to want anyone that's not you, or Chanhee, or Juyeon. He just says no, because teenage crushes never age that well, which isn't a lie. 

Speaking of Juyeon, there was also Jaehyun's birthday last week. He told Juyeon he could invite someone over if he wanted but Chanhee and Kevin were working and Changmin's sisters relieved him of his flower shop duty for the weekend, so he took the subway with excitement building up inside him. He was looking forward to meeting Juyeon's roommates for the first time because they seem to be such an important part of his life and Changmin wants to find out why. 

He easily comprehends why they won Juyeon's friendship as soon as he steps into the place. Jaehyun is super handsome, with an unnaturally perfect nose and brown curls, and he introduces them to the small group of people he's gathered at the living room, fried chicken and beer on the center table. There's Eunbi, whose blonde hair seems to be seriously growing out of her head. There's Hyunggu, also a dancer, very bubbly and smiley. There's Haknyeon, the third roommate, and Mina, his best friend. They make him feel comfortable enough to let loose — especially Haknyeon, who keeps bombarding him with questions about dance school and competitive dance and whether Juyeon and him are officially dating or taking it slow. 

Changmin can't tell if that was a shovel talk or a genuine curiosity. Either way, he tells him the truth, that things are complicated and he's waiting for a green light to do anything. Haknyeon seems content with that answer and asks Changmin if he wants to play Just Dance with him, which must be a sign of approval. After the party is over, Juyeon makes a joke about Changmin stealing his friend from him. It comes out way more stilted than the usual Juyeon attempt at humor.

Changmin has missed so many signs. He needs to convince these people he only has eyes for them now, has been having tunnel vision for months, his heart enraptured, at their mercy. How to do that, without breaking the delicate, ambiguous rhythm they built their relationship on? They can be so slippery, sometimes. 

"Chanhee," Changmin starts, letting the truth guide him. "You do know how much you mean to me, don't you?"

Chanhee looks at him, startled, a warm, pretty blush rising to his cheekbones. "I do, most of the time."

An idea occurs to Changmin. Something subtle, yet clear. A message. "I'll go get something. Stay right here, only call me if someone walks in."

Chanhee raises his eyebrows. "What are you going to do?"

Changmin doesn't answer him, instead bolting to the back of the shop. You'd think people don't care about flower meanings in real life, but turns out some customers do buy into the romantic idea of their bouquets having heartwarming messages behind them. Besides, to be honest, most of them only want to know meanings so they don't gift their loved ones _I wish you were dead_ flowers. Once, they had a huge order, a soon-to-be bride who was frantic with wedding preparations and asked for a bunch of yellow begonias to match her tropical color palette, except she found out, three days before the ceremony, they meant beware. She lost her mind, tried to blame them for not warning her, then apologized for her behavior, it's just that she was so stressed and nothing was going according to plan. 

Before his second oldest sister could try and put her in a chokehold, always with such a short temper towards spoiled clients, Changmin stepped in and told her they could sell her daffodil arrangements instead, that meant new beginnings. He explained, with his customer service voice, she'd have to pay for the begonias she ordered because they still went through the trouble of getting them ready. He wanted to tell her no one gives a fuck, objectively, about her goddamn flowers, and most people only go to weddings to drink and eat for free, but he had a feeling she'd feel offended by that.

Point being — after what him and his sisters call _The Incident_ , Changmin has kept a notebook with the meanings to every single plant they have in store. He has memorized some of them, even, and he thinks he has the perfect one he could give Chanhee. 

In no time, he grabs a couple pink camellias and arranges them in a dainty, simple bouquet. They mean beauty, they mean longing for one's affection, and they're the same color Chanhee's hair was when Changmin met him. Perfect. 

Chanhee smiles as soon as he sees the flowers, unbidden. "Who are these for?"

"You," Changmin hands them to him, finds his hands are shaking, a little bit. "They make me think about you. Look up their meaning, maybe, so you can remember what you mean to me whenever you forget."

"They're beautiful, Changmin," Chanhee cradles his flowers on his arms like a baby, his voice soft and warm and his _eyes_ — Yeah. This is a moment that is happening.

 _New friends he makes out with sometimes and has definitely developed strong feelings_ for is even more of a mouthful, but now more than ever using _new friends_ seems lacking.

...

(Changmin chooses the other flowers with care, flips through the pages of his notebook during his lunch breaks, trying to find what's perfect for each one of them.

Chanhee sends him a picture of his pink camellias in a vase. He shows up at Changmin's house the following day, waits until they're alone in his room to kiss him slow and tender, with all the words he couldn't bring himself to say out loud. 

Kevin is busier each day, being hired to sing on parties and events and weddings all around town. He's proven himself to be a great live singer and he's closer to his goal, more now than ever. He has this glow on him now, of pride and passion, someone who might be busy but still love what they do. Changmin wants to give him a gift and wants to say he's falling for him without him running away to become a monk afterwards. He grabs honeysuckle flowers, with vibrant orange colors and vivid yellows and rich pinks and arranges them in a flower crown to resemble the sunset. Although Changmin isn't the most artistic person there is, he makes an effort to make it look pretty. Honeysuckle flowers are odd, their fun, whimsical shape making them an unconventional one to work with.

It's perfect. 

He doesn't tell Kevin what it means — devoted affection, affection in the form of a lover's embrace —, only says he thought of him while making it. Kevin thanks him, hugs him and lingers, and wears the flower crown to one of his performances at _Insanity_. Changmin's heart threatens to burst out of his chest.

Juyeon is an easy choice. He's an open book, doesn't attempt to hide himself. He wouldn't be able to even if he tried: he's a showstopper, he's scored an important internship early on his major and his superiors love him. Whenever they go out together, the four of them, people from all genders turn their heads to gawk at him. He could've had anyone he wanted, and yet he never looks away from them. He never leaves them alone when they need him, he gives them support and reassurance and comfort. He makes it look easy to choose kindness. Changmin chooses blue hyacinths, because they mean _your loveliness charms me_ , and they represent loyalty and sincerity. He gives Juyeon a flower pot, thinking he might appreciate getting to take care of the plant. Changmin feels accomplished handing in his gifts, in a way he rarely feels outside of dance. 

He might love them, and that doesn’t feel as daunting as it once had.)

…

Chanhee doesn't do drugs.

The concept of losing control of your own actions is not very tempting for him. He can drink alcohol if it's fruity enough or if he's in the mood to let loose, but he won't be drinking to the point of throwing up in a bush (Kevin) or crying while hugging a tree (Juyeon) or claiming to know dog language and barking at a poodle to prove it (Changmin). Chanhee can maybe get sticky and embarrassing, hold people's hands and lean against them, that's it. 

His life forever changes after Friday's movie night with his neighbors.

Hyunjun and Eric are, by far, the most unusual friendship Chanhee has. They're both young in age and in mannerism, with very different brands of ambition and very different brands overall. The week they moved in, Eric was playing an American rap album so loudly it was a wonder he could hear his own thoughts, and Chanhee knocked on his door to bitch about it despite Keonhee's protests. Hyunjun opened the door for him, explaining they had just come home from a party and his roommate was high as a kite, insisting on having an after party with nothing but Doja Cat tracks looping at the highest volume. 

Chanhee, who strategically extricated himself from the rowdy part of university experience that included social settings and weed, couldn't relate, yet maintained his politeness as he requested for the volume to be lowered. They ended up turning the music off and Chanhee thought this would be the end of their interactions. However, the following day, they give him an apple pie with an apology note attached to the bottom of the plate. It was a cute gesture, despite the apple pie tasting horrible, so Chanhee decides to actually buy another pie, one that's good, and share with them. Their encounters develop into a beautiful, mutually beneficial friendship — they get better at cooking, Chanhee gets better at sleeping through noise.

Movie night is one of the traditions they come up with, and it happens every month, so they can catch up on gossip and eat junk food and watch blockbusters. Despite being called movie night, it takes place during the afternoon so Chanhee won't be late for work. He's already inside their apartment at around 3pm, dressed with a loose T-shirt and casual sweatpants.

"Hi," Hyunjun greets him, sprawled across the couch, scrolling through his phone mindlessly. "Eric's showering. I'm looking for something decent to watch before he gets out. You hungry?"

"Always," Chanhee answers. He was too busy finishing an essay last minute to actually eat during his lunch break and he has a well-known insatiable appetite, so to say he's hungry is an understatement.

"There's brownies in the kitchen," Hyunjun says, bemused, focused on his search for a good movie. 

Taking into consideration the fact they're two college students living alone and they're men, their kitchen is organized well, neat and orderly. Chanhee easily finds a bunch of brownies stacked up in a plate on top of the counter and takes a bite of one of them. It tastes good, which is not surprising since they've been getting better and better at baking, no longer overusing ingredients or letting pastries on the oven for too long. Chanhee takes a second bite, then a third one, then he's about to eat a second brownie because what the hell, they're delicious, when Eric steps into the kitchen like a hurricane, only a towel wrapped around his waist. "Hyung?" 

Chanhee blinks. He wasn't expecting to see that. "Yes, Eric?"

"Please tell me you didn't eat these brownies?" Eric asks, his voice strained, his eyes wide and frantic.

"I only ate one," Chanhee answers, defensive, wondering why he was making such a big deal about this when there's another batch sitting on top of the stove. 

Eric swears under his breath. "Those... Those are fucking _pot brownies_. I made these for me and normal ones for you and Hyunjunie! This is a nightmare. Please don’t sue me."

Chanhee drops the brownie that was on his hands like it's poisonous. He takes a deep breath, tries to remind himself this situation could be worse. There's a bunch of drugs out there — heroine, coke, meth, oxy, crack — with more dangerous, long-lasting effects than what one edible could cause. Besides, he's right next to his house, all he'll have to do is sit tight and wait for the effects to pass. He'll be in a little bit of a haze at work, sure, but not enough to stop his functionality, he would hope?

"I... don't feel anything, though?" is the first thing Chanhee notices. 

Eric snorts, still looking very alarmed. "It takes a while to kick in. Did you eat anything today?"

Chanhee shakes his head. He's... a bit terrified, frankly. 

Eric pinches the bridge of his nose, exasperated. "Ok, cool, thank God you have me. I'll make cup noodles. Do you have any objections against cup noodles? And then you'll eat normal brownies. You shouldn't take edibles on an empty stomach, I've learned that the hard way."

"Am I gonna be good in time for work?" Chanhee asks, because that's his biggest concern right now. Sangyeon is very strict about his employees being one hundred percent sober on the clock, he doesn't even let the singers water their mouths with a little bit of alcohol.

"I have no idea," Eric admits, frowning. "I usually buy gummies at school and eat them here and I only feel normal again when I wake up the next day, but your body could react differently. Maybe you're a secret professional pothead and no one knows."

Two hours later, Chanhee learns he's definitely _not_ a professional pothead. 

They choose Samjin Company English Class, a comedy slash drama movie with three female protagonists and a really interesting plot. Chanhee experiences hunger first, abnormal amounts of it. He eats Eric's cup noodles, an entire bowl of popcorn, three brownies from the normal brownies batch and the cheese tteokbokki leftovers they had on the fridge, and he still feels like he's starving. Then his eyelids start feeling heavy, his thought process slow and mellow and he feels suspiciously happy at the fact he's watching a great movie with his friends. He doesn't know if he'll be able to make drinks like this, but he feels good, relaxed. 

"I'm so fucked," Chanhee whispers, laughing, giggling on Hyunjun's fancy sweater. "My boss is gonna kill me."

"Call in sick," Hyunjun suggests, patting his head like one would do to a pet. He must have lots of experience with taking care of Eric. He's so warm and nice and _tall_ , it makes Chanhee miss Juyeon.

"Your shift starts at eight, right?" Eric asks, so normal. Why is he so normal? Is it because he's so hyper and energetic, being stoned makes him ease into a pace people can actually keep up with? 

Or maybe Chanhee is just a _really shitty stoner_. He laughs at the possibility, because of course he is, he can barely hold his liquor, let alone eat an entire brownie reeking of marijuana. "Yeah."

"You won't work today, hyung," Hyunjun tells him, matter-of-factly. 

Chanhee frowns. He has to work. Sangyeon is gonna murder him and hide his body in a dumpster if he shows up to work high, though. He's too pretty to die like this. 

Then it dawns on him: Kevin works on Fridays! He could help! He's mentioned he smokes once in a while whenever he's too anxious or upset, so he must know how to deal with whatever it is that Chanhee is going through. Sangyeon loves Kevin, too, and always considers his opinions, so maybe if he comes up with a really good excuse, Sangyeon will let Chanhee off the hook. Maybe no one other than him, Eric and Hyunjun will know about the time he got high off accidentally eating an edible. 

"Okay, uh," Chanhee starts, trying to stand up and finding out he feels less wobbly than he does when he's drunk. "I gotta go home? I'll take a shower and, um, see what I'm gonna do with my life?"

"Sorry for the brownies," Eric says, looking genuinely apologetic. "I should've put them somewhere."

Chanhee feels a surge of affection take over him, a strong one, and he forgets himself as he pinches Eric's cheeks, using the annoying, cooing voice he uses to talk to newborns. "You're so cute. Such a cute little stoner who is gonna get me fired."

"Get off me," Eric mutters through a pout. 

Hyunjun laughs out loud. "Let us know how it goes."

...

Chanhee is proud of himself.

He made it inside the bathroom with no further damage. He takes a cold, refreshing shower, refuses to neglect his skincare process despite his growing buzzed state. He puts on his prettiest pajamas, the burgundy ones made of silk that make him feel like he's filthy rich, and slaps on the hand creams that smell better, because Kevin is coming and he'll be pretty and sober and confused and pretty.

Chanhee wants to kiss him a lot. He always does. It's concerning, but right now he can't find it in himself to care. He's so high-strung all the time, worrying about his image and his career and his job and his future and the fact he's falling in love in much more complicated ways than normal people fall in love. He worries about not being loved and about losing control and about showing vulnerability and about being successful and isolating from whatever he finds troublesome. He doesn't worry about finding a soulmate anymore, though, instead obsessing over whether he's enough to keep all three of them.

It's so stupid, so tiring, to try and keep these walls up. He doesn't want to do it anymore. He thinks he does a shitty job at it, anyways, and the pink camellias sitting pink and delicate in a vase by his bedside table would agree with him. 

Kevin opens the door to Chanhee's bedroom, wearing Changmin's flower crown and a colorful shirt that matches it and denim shorts. 

Chanhee is laying down with his arms and legs splayed apart, half the buttons of his shirt undone because he's feeling like there are live flames burning under his skin. Kevin only stares at him, confused, startled.

"Binnie!" Chanhee exclaims, so glad he's here. He sits up, giving Kevin space to sit next to him. "Something terrible happened."

"Keonhee told me," Kevin says, softly. "About the brownies. And I heard your voice messages, even though they were kinda hard to understand."

"I was stupid," Chanhee admits. "I shouldn't have eaten them. Being intimate with people sucks, because you walk inside their kitchen and you just eat shit and then you find out you're being drugged. It tasted just like a real brownie, Kevin!"

Kevin giggles, the sound of it ringing melodic and beautiful inside the room. "That's how they're supposed to taste, if they're well-made. I'll give you cookies next, with a lighter recipe."

"You know what?" Chanhee retorts, grinning. "I might eat it. I feel great!"

"I'm glad you do," Kevin smiles at him, as honest as always, a hit of fondness inside his eyes. 

Chanhee wants to kiss him, so he does, refuses to let himself think about it for too long. He delights in the way one of Kevin's hands holds him gently by the waist, the other cups his face, caressing it ever so slightly with his thumb. It's not rushed, not ravenous, not greedy. It's tender, warm, lovely enough that Chanhee feels his lips tingling and his heart soaring even after Kevin puts some space between them.

"I've talked to Sangyeon," Kevin whispers, breathy and dazed as Chanhee's lips touch his neck. "I told him I came by to walk to work with you and you were super sick but you wanted to work regardless. He told you to stay home, and Chaeyeon is gonna cover for you. She says she needs the extra cash."

"You're a life-savior, Binnie," Chanhee stares at him from under his lashes, not above using his most obscure flirting tactics to get what he wants. "Kiss me again?"

Kevin snorts, disbelieving. "Chanhee, love, you're high."

He does not move his hands away from where they were, though, and Chanhee interprets it as a sign of hesitation. "Yeah, and? I'm not asking you to ravish me. Just a little bit of kissing."

"My shift starts in thirty minutes."

"You can get there from here in less than ten."

Kevin sighs, resigned. " _Chanhee_."

"Binnie," Chanhee replies, a smirk tugging at his lips. He pushes himself closer to Kevin's chest, nuzzles his hand with his cheek. "Please?"

He gives in, because of course he does, and Chanhee is so happy he could burst. His heart is beating powerful and slow against his ribcage, content warmth spreading through him. He's ending this night of terror and confusion on such a good note, and he's so glad he has people in his life who love him. He's so glad Kevin Moon is sitting on his bed and kissing him numb, running his hands through his hair, his touch gentle and loving and perfect. 

They part again. 

"I really have to go now," Kevin says, and the fact he sounds sad to go is _so_ —

"It's okay," Chanhee replies. "Good luck at work!"

 _You'll do perfect, I love you_ , he thinks with such strength it bounces inside his skull. The word love, over and over, like a mantra. 

(Maybe he thinks it so loud he actually says it. He's too stoned to know the difference.)

...

Kevin is not proud of the decisions he's been making since yesterday happened.

He has a tendency of running away whenever he feels like things are too good. It's the reason why he hasn't had a relevant, serious relationship in his twenty-two years of life, because he doesn't know how to deal with strong emotions. He can't handle opening up, can't handle showing vulnerability, can't handle creating opportunities for people to reject him and shun him and betray him and _hurt him_. When it comes to romance, he's similar to a small, easily frightened animal, scurrying off to the hills whenever a pretty boy says he loves you after you guys finish making out on his bed.

Wait, animals don't do that. Ew.

Kevin groans. He stares at his phone screen, at the text he sent Sangyeon saying he won't be able to make it today at work. His excuse is _lame_ , too, saying he needs to babysit his niece. He doesn't even have a niece! Besides, his family members wouldn't trust him with taking care of a kid since they barely trust him with taking care of himself. And, considering the poor excuse for a human being he's proving himself to be, they're not wrong.

He might be overreacting, he's aware. People say _I love you_ all the time when inebriated and they don't really mean it, but Chanhee has been showing his love for a while, now, with actions rather than words. He's shown Kevin amounts of kindness and consideration he hasn't thought people could carry inside them, and he's been the same way for Changmin and Juyeon. He doesn't craft mellow words to sweep you off your feet, although he can be sweet. He just... He loves you, and he treats you like he loves you. He treats you like you mean a lot to him, he treats you like you're an important part of his life. He treats you like he cares.

Kevin finds that as hypnotizing as terrifying.

So he clams up, despite how clearly he can see Juyeon's smile when he closes his eyes. He tries to detach from them, with Changmin's flower crown still sitting pretty and meaningful on his desk. And mind you, he's doing a great job, ignoring Chanhee's texts ( _i didn't know you had a niece!_ and _did i say anything weird yesterday? :P)_ and watching The Umbrella Academy instead of owning up to his actions.

Until Jacob Bae shows up on his doorstep on a Sunday morning, looking like someone stole his fixed parking spot. Or like someone made him work extra because they don't know how to maturely handle their own feelings. Dongju is standing next to him, Sunny cradled in his arms, looking guilty.

"Jacob!" Kevin greets him, winces when his voice cracks at the end.

Jacob squints at him. "Why did you lie to Sangyeon to not go to work yesterday? I know you don't have a niece and this guy just told me you didn't leave the house yesterday, so."

 _Oof_. No ice breaker, then. Kevin turns to Dongju. "Really?"

"I didn't know!" Dongju replies, putting Sunny on the floor but still holding her at her leash. "If you told me you had lied, I'd lie in your name. I love lying!"

Kevin sighs. He should've thought this through. "Come in, you three."

He tells them everything. He tells them about what happened at Chanhee's place, he tells them about going to disturbing art exhibits with Changmin and sometimes spending the night with him, he tells them about Juyeon's magic hands and the joy it is to watch him trusting them more and more each day. He tells them about his insecurities, the alarming possibilities surrounding his mind day and night, and what he's trying to do now. 

It's easy to address this situation around people who aren't directly involved, but Jacob's face turns more disbelieving by the second and Dongju is fully gaping throughout Kevin's whole speech, so maybe he's not doing as well at expressing himself as he thought.

"So, let me see if I got this right," Dongju starts, a note of urgency on his voice. "You're holed up inside your house because Chanhee said he loved you and you found out you might love him back?"

Kevin flinches. He hates it when people put names on things he was avoiding naming for self-preservation. "Maybe?"

" _Dude_ ," Jacob says, managing to summarize the feelings of disappointment and frustration in one word.

"It's more complicated than that!" Kevin defends himself, exasperated. "It's like... Let's say I have feelings for them. For all of them, not just Chanhee. What am I supposed to do now? Am I supposed to choose? What if they get tired of me and turn into a trio instead? Or, I don't know... I don't know! That's the thing! I don't date and now I'm going through this thing with three other people and I have no idea of _what the fuck_ I'm gonna do."

"I understand that this must be a confusing situation," Jacob concedes, kindly. "But you're taking protective measures before anything happens that demands you to actually protect yourself. This works for, I don't know, health insurance, but not for love. You'll be missing on what could be good for you."

Dongju pats his own lap and Sunny sits on it obediently, looking at Kevin like he would also judge him if he knew how to talk. "Can I be blunt, Kevin?"

Kevin shrugs. "You never ask for my permission for that, don't start now."

"This is the most ridiculous problem I've ever heard," Dongju deadpans. "Your conundrum is that your favorite people are in love with you. Not one, not two, but three people. That's basically a soccer team, and they all want you. _Lee Juyeon_ wants you. Jacob, did Kevin show you Juyeon's Instagram account?"

Jacob shakes his head. "I've seen him in person, though. I know what you mean. He's kinda perfect."

"And you're avoiding him!" Dongju gives Kevin a surprisingly strong slap across the head, making Sunny hop off his lap and sit on Jacob's instead. "You're avoiding this absolute dreamboat of a man, for what? Didn't you tell me he exclusively uses cats as reaction pictures?"

Kevin smiles, unbidden. "Yeah. He thinks they're cute, and better than using faces of people he doesn't know."

"Look at Sunny's face," Dongju points to the dog, who seems to be blissfully enamored by Jacob's petting. "That's the face you just made. That's the face you make whenever you talk about any of these men. You're living the dream and making up problems that do not exist. Hope that helps."

"You know," Jacob adds. "Even if his delivery is questionable, your friend is not wrong. You _are_ getting in the way of your own happiness."

Kevin's about to refute, to shield himself from these accusations despite them ringing too close to home, when his phone starts ringing on his leg. He looks at the caller's ID, sees dimples and wants to die. " _Shit_."

"Who is it?" Dongju and Jacob ask at the same time. Sunny barks at the phone.

"Changmin," Kevin admits, defeated, figuring it's useless to lie.

Dongju rolls his eyes. "Pick it _up_."

"Yeah, man, pick it up," Jacob repeats, more gently.

Are they ganging up on him? Playing good cop and bad cop? Did they plan this beforehand? There's no other rational explanation for this synergy.

"Hello?" Kevin tries not to sound like he had been talking about him just now.

Changmin shrieks. " _You picked it up! Why aren't you answering our texts?_ "

"I was helping my friend walk his dog," Kevin lies with his chest. Dongju glares at him. "Did something happen?"

" _Okay, so,_ " Changmin sounds excited, cheerful. " _Every year, people in my dance school do a showcase, a bunch of super cool performances to flaunt our talent. Each year, only a handful of people are chosen by the teachers' council based on their grades and overall commitment to the course. Guess who's got selected?_ "

Kevin's grin threatens to split his face in half. He forgets himself, forgets there are two people and a dog in his living room berating his life choices. "You?"

" _Me_!" Changmin yells, over the moon.

Kevin yells, too. Sunny barks, but it's more of a content bark than a suspicious one. "I'm so happy for you!"

" _You should_ ," Changmin taunts, except he sounds too giddy for it to have any bite. " _It's in two weeks and I'll have to rehearse like crazy. I'm in a group performance, a duo and a solo! I have a solo!_ "

"That's insane," Kevin says, painfully soft. "No one deserves this more than you."

Changmin tuts. " _Are you gonna come see me, though? Each dancer can invite four other people, so I chose my mom, my sisters and Younghoon, but this girl in the crew is only inviting her boyfriend so she gave me three spare tickets! You in?_ "

"Of course," Kevin doesn't even have the energy to tease him, to engage in banter. He's so proud. "I wouldn't miss it."

" _Good,_ " Changmin giggles. " _I'll get the tickets today and leave them with Chanhee. Don't forget the tickets, otherwise you won't get in! Bye!_ "

He ends the call, just like that. Kevin feels elated— like he's floating on a cloud, his body filled up to the brim with warmth.

Jacob looks at him, understanding clear in his gaze. "Don't miss out on what could make you this happy, Kev."

"I won't," Kevin says. He means it.

Sunny barks. Hopeful.

…

With the way Juyeon's nervous, you'd think he's the one performing. 

He shares an Uber with Chanhee and Kevin, which is poetic in its own right, he guesses. Nine months ago, they had met a Changmin who was desperate, wanting to get blackout drunk to deflect from the fact he thought he was going to be kicked out of dance school. Now, he's here, being shown off as one of the biggest talents of the same school. It feels like they're fulfilling a cycle, a beautiful one, and Juyeon is beaming with pride, but he's also nervous as hell. He's aware, knowing Changmin, he wouldn't forgive himself if he made a mistake in such a huge setting like this. Juyeon hopes them being here will give him strength, somehow. 

Not only them — Younghoon. Changmin's mother and his sisters. His dance school friend, Sunwoo, who had won a free ticket for being a student. Juyeon hopes Changmin can see he's built himself an incredible support system and that, regardless of how he does today, they'll still love him. They're still proud of him for making it here.

"Is it weird that I'm nervous?" Kevin blurts out, clutching at his heart. "I feel like I'm gonna have a heart attack."

Chanhee sighs, a shaky sound. "No. I'm about to die. Juyeonie?"

"Same," Juyeon mutters. They arrived early so they could get a front seat, since Changmin mentioned it was quite a popular event, and now they see what he meant. The place is packed full, and if they had arrived a minute later they wouldn't be able to see the stage properly. "When's it starting?"

"Should be starting any second now," Kevin answers. "Did he tell you guys anything about what we're about to see?"

Chanhee snorts. "Not a word. He told me he wanted it to be a surprise."

A surprise? From _Changmin_? Juyeon grimaces. "Are we going to survive this?"

The curtains open before any of them can answer. 

A girl is standing at one side, her outfit a plain white jumpsuit, her hair an almost translucent shade of platinum blond. On the other side, there's Changmin, his hair painted black, even darker than Kevin's, his face bare except for the fake blood scattered across his cheek. They start dancing, their movements eerily similar but different in their execution. This particular performance seems to lean on the recurring theme of good and evil, yin and yang, and how the dualities within us coexist. Although it is a duo, they have parts where they dance mostly by themselves to better represent each character. Changmin steps too close to the edge of the stage, smears fake blood across his face and his neck and his arms, and dances as if he's about to fall, grinning darkly all the while. 

Juyeon shivers. 

In the end, him and his partner fall on top of the stage, and a grey piece of fabric falls on top of them, covering the entirety of their bodies. Changmin's name is already on people's mouths, which isn't surprising — the evil counterpart always has the bigger impact, and paired with an incredible performer it was to be expected. Juyeon can't help but think _that's my friend,_ although friend feels very much like an incomplete term to talk about them now. He can't help but think, _that's my Changmin._

The other performances go by in a flash. Juyeon only notices there seems to be no theme holding all the performances today as a cohesive unit, instead each one has its specific theme. One of the group performances, the one that Changmin is a part of, leans more to the fun, hip-hop side, with them dancing to an upbeat medley of the latest hit songs. Changmin's grin is truly bright on this one, nearly blinding, so it's Juyeon's favorite choreography so far.

Until Changmin's solo comes.

It's one of the last ones, so they have to sit through a bunch of performances by people they don't care about, which isn't at all a torturing ordeal, since those are all trained, competitive, extraordinary dancers, but Changmin— he's different. It's not about technique, not about the amount of accuracy he uses to execute his steps. It's about how he pours his soul into the stage, how he rips his heart out of his chest and shows it to everyone in the audience, beating and raw and real. When he walks back into the stage, all alone, the entire room seems to hold their breath.

The first thing Juyeon notices is the scenario behind him. It's a plain black backdrop with a bunch of silver dots across it to represent stars. There's a word written in purple, with a slightly faded effect, making it look like a neon sign. _Insanity_. 

Juyeon can't _breathe_. 

It's the first time he ever looks away from the stage to see if recognition flashes across anyone else's faces, if it perhaps serves as a general token of appreciation for this place he has lots of other memories about, memories that don't include the four of them— 

He finds a mirror of himself in Kevin and Chanhee. No one else.

The second thing Juyeon notices is his outfit. He's wearing the outfit he wore when they first met, a leather jacket over a dark red shirt and jeans. Then Juyeon has no time to notice anything else, though, because Changmin starts moving and the rest of the world stops moving in the same second. In this moment, few things matter more than listening to the story he's trying to tell.

Changmin has a YouTube channel, so they've all seen him dance. They've been amazed by it, were certain he was a fantastic dancer and every single one of his worries about not being talented enough were unfounded. However, nothing in the world could've prepared them to see Changmin right in front of them, performing a choreography that he made himself.

A choreography that he made himself, for _them_.

There's a lot of them in the routine. There's Chanhee's sharpness, his wit, his charm, his beauty, his protectiveness. There's the bond between him and Changmin, their intertwined thought process, their bond of mutual teasing and bantering and understanding and loving. The times he'd teach Chanhee how to make flower crowns and to combine different types of flowers to create pretty arrangements just because Chanhee had a terrible day and needed a distraction. Juyeon recognizes his own memories with Chanhee on the routine, but he knows this part couldn't have been intentional. What Juyeon truly recognizes is the act of _loving_ Chanhee, of being loved by him.

Because this is a confession. 

Changmin continues to build his story, and he's talking about beauty again, but a different brand of it. A beauty that's not perceived by its owner, an embrace that's warm and so perfect, so welcoming, even if clumsy, even if slippery, even if hesitant. He's talking about dreams, he's talking about art, he's talking about finding a home in someone, about admiring them and being proud of them. He's talking about kindness, about wanting to give back to the world, about truly caring. He's talking about breaking free from shame, even though not completely, to reach out and give someone love. 

He's talking about Kevin. 

Juyeon's heart beats deafening against his chest, the noise seeming to echo through his entire body. He's next, he knows, and Changmin stops talking. His dance no longer talks — it communicates through knowing, shared glances. It thrives in the silence, in the affection hanging unsaid in the air. He shows a bond that doesn't need words, that needs only them, needs only Juyeon and Changmin existing in the same place, being each other's rocks, never hesitating. A bond which understands there's no way we can ever run away from our past and the only way to move on from it is to try and forge your own future.

Changmin calls him _kind, so kind it hurts to see_. Changmin calls him _strong_. Changmin calls him _lovely_. All without saying a word.

"Holy fucking shit," Kevin whispers, and yeah. He's right.

The routine isn't only about them, though. It's about his family's constant loyalty, it's about their hardships and struggles. It's about Younghoon and their history, their written-in-the-stars friendship, persevering despite the odds. It's about Sunwoo, even, and his conscious decision to be gentle and uplifting regardless of the competitive, harsh surroundings he's been raised in. 

When Changmin's done, he's on his knees, looking at the ceiling. He smiles when he hears the claps, smiles even wider when he looks at them and notices they're standing ovations. 

Juyeon doesn't think saying he's in love cuts it anymore. He's... Something else. Something as big as the universe.

...

Changmin _knows_ these motherfuckers are up to something.

A week has passed after his performance and he's been on cloud nine ever since. The people on his crew, the dancers who were a part of the showcase, were actually people Changmin could bond with on a deeper level. He's found other people who won scholarships in previous years, people with stories similar to his, and they have a huge group chat now. After the performance, as much as he wanted to further take in the looks of absolute awe in Chanhee, Kevin and Juyeon's faces, his (actual) new friends asked him if he wanted to have dinner with them and people he has never seen in his life ask him for an autograph and it's so much.

Not too much, but _so much_.

His only problem — not exactly a problem, more like unwavering curiosity — is the radio silence from the infamous _three tigers one cow_ group chat. He feels like the cow himself, excluded from their secret machinations, because he's been seeing on social media they've been meeting each other. They've been posting cryptic Instagram stories and mysterious, ambiguous tweets.

Mainly from Chanhee. Chanhee does a lot of yelling, there.

So he's celebrating the end of the semester with Sunwoo, drinking an extra large cup of coffee while Sunwoo sips on a milkshake, and complaining about it, when his phone chimes with notifications from them. The motherfuckers in question.

_three tigers one cow (4)_

**binnie** : heyyyyy y'all long time no see!!

 **binnie** : hehehe how have u been

 **chani** : baby don't act normal you suck at acting normal

 **binnie** : FOR YOUR INFORMATION I AM GREAT AT ACTING NORMAL

 **binnie** : see i am being so normal oh my god you wanna be normal like me so bad

 **juyomi** : Anyways

 **juyomi** : Changmin are u there

Changmin scoffs. "Shameless. After a week of silence, Sunwoo! Should I even dignify that with an answer?"

"You did confess to them through lyrical dance, hyung," Sunwoo reminds him, pointedly. "A hell of a stunt. Maybe they need a little time to recover."

Changmin tsks. "They did not deserve my big romantic gesture."

"Answer them," Sunwoo takes a gulp of his milkshake. "You know you want to."

Damn, Changmin misses it when the kid had a crush on him. He didn’t have to deal with _sass_ , then.

 **me** : yes i am

 **me** : what's up?

 **juyomi** : There's gonna be karaoke on Insanity later tonight!!

 **juyomi** : Would you come with us?

 **me** : you're rlyyyyy inviting me to go out w u

 **me** : AFTER NOT SHOWING YOUR FACES FOR DAYS

 **chani** : we've been busy!

 **chani** : we can talk about this in person if u want

 **binnie** : i promise it's nothing bad :(

 **binnie** : besides, you love karaoke

 **binnie** : will you come?

Changmin whines into his coffee. "Sunwoo, they are too cute. I should be more mad, shouldn't I?"

"You should listen to what they have to say," Sunwoo suggests, because of course he would. "They must have a good reason for disappearing."

"They better do," Changmin says, texting them a begrudging, dry _yes_.

He only hopes karaoke night isn't code for dumping him and becoming a polyamorous trio instead. That would be a bummer.

...

Now, this can't be right.

Changmin makes sure to get dolled up before leaving the house, again recruiting help from his sisters to make sure he'd look as handsome as possible to meet them again after confessing to them on stage like an absolute lovesick fool. He needs to send a message — _regardless of the fact I have extremely strong feelings for all of you, I'm also very hot and if you don't want me, someone out there will_. He's not _actually_ scared he'll be dumped, or else he'd be way more disheartened than he is, but who knows? So much crazy shit has happened to him in the relationship department, he wouldn't be surprised.

So he heads to _Insanity_ , a mixture between giddy to see them and nervous for what this night would bring, and finds the door open, the open/closed sign flipped on closed, hanging on the doorknob. He walks inside and the place is pitch black, drowned in darkness.

You see, Changmin _loves_ creepy in most contexts. This is not one of them. Someone needs to tell him what the hell is going on or he's gonna scream.

Someone turns on the light and the first thing Changmin realizes is that the bar is completely empty, although there is a karaoke machine standing where the live singers usually perform. The second thing Changmin realizes is that Sangyeon is standing on top of the stage, holding a microphone in his hands. The third thing Changmin realizes is that someone dressed as a waiter is closing the door — _Jaehyun_? Juyeon's roommate? Is this a prank? Is this a lucid dream?

"What the fuck," Changmin enunciates, letting it show on his voice he will fight if he needs to. He's a dancer, he has some muscles. "is happening?"

"You'll see soon enough!" Sangyeon giggles, having the best time of his life. "I can't say spoilers, can I?"

"No spoilers," Jaehyun confirms, nodding solemnly. "The point of a surprise is to be surprising. Changmin, can you sit down on one of the tables for a second?”

Changmin wants to kick them in the face. Instead, he sits, thinking of the most painful ways to murder every single person involved in this, especially Chanhee, Juyeon and Kevin.

To top it all off, fucking _Jacob_ pops up out of nowhere, looking like he's slightly out of breath. "They're ready!"

 _And_ the lights turn off. Changmin screams.

Music starts coming out of the speakers, which makes him stop screaming because he knows this song. He knows this song more than he knows himself as a person, he's heard this song so many times each note is engraved inside his head, including the intro, so he knows it's IU's _Knee_ before the vocalist even starts singing.

Then the lights are on again, because whoever is the eletricist responsible for this bar is doing a terrible job, and Changmin has no quips inside his head anymore because singing his favorite song in the world is none other than Choi Chanhee, with his hair pink again and his bartender uniform and his glittery makeup and a voice that pierces through Changmin's heart like an arrow. He had no idea Chanhee could sing like this, his tone so beautiful and unique and heartfelt, like a dream. He's holding a bouquet of red carnations and he places them on top of Changmin's table, but he barely registers that over Chanhee, his Chanhee, singing to him, singing _his song_.

The music changes. Changmin recognizes the melody to this one, too — Yerin Baek's _Don't leave me alone_. Kevin walks out of the kitchen, a microphone in his hands, and Changmin wants to cry because he has been pestering Kevin to sing that song for ages, because he loves it and he thinks Kevin will sound lovely singing it, and of course he does, and of course he sings it looking deep in his eyes, searching and loving and sweet. He's wearing the fancy job interview outfit he wore when they first met, except he's wearing his honeysuckle crown because he's a sappy Pisces and Changmin loves him _so much_. There's another crown on his hands, one he puts on top of the table, also made by red carnations.

He doesn't have the time to notice the pattern before the music changes, again, and tears well up on Changmin's eyes when he recognizes it even before Juyeon's voice echoes through the bar. He's, of course, barefaced, wearing the same basic outfit he wore that night.

Love _fucking_ Poem. This man is a living, breathing cliché and Changmin wants to marry him.

Juyeon sings it with his low, calm voice, the same voice he's used to soothe Changmin's worries and reassure him and make him stupid, far too earnest questions. It's because, unlike Chanhee or Kevin, Juyeon's singing voice isn't much different from his speaking voice. It's because it's one of the million things he does that are so unbearably _Juyeon_ , to remember his ringtone and remember his first flirty line and have this singing voice and choose this specific song out of all songs to sing to him.

Because of that, he starts crying. He's not even ashamed of it.

The music stops. Juyeon gives him a bright red flower pot, and that's when it registers.

Red carnations. _My heart aches for you. New love_.

He looks down at the flowers. At the gifts he has received, a reply to the gifts he's given them a long time ago. All of these details trace back to their past, their little meaningful moments. The final confirmation Changmin needed to see he wasn't the only one wanting this. Wanting them, all together, to love him and to love each other.

Changmin sobs harder and _Younghoon_ comes up from behind him with a box of tissues. "I had a feeling this would be needed."

"Fuck you," Changmin glares at him, grabs one of the tissues and sneezes. He wouldn't be surprised if Sunwoo was involved in this, too, the balloon-headed, round-eyed, kind bastard.

Juyeon, Chanhee and Kevin stand in front of him, matching Changmin in tears and smiles. They are so ridiculous.

"That's what we've been planning," Kevin says, gentle. "You took us through a loop at the showcase."

"I wanted to make a grand gesture," Changmin dabs at the corner of his eyes, no longer crying but still trembling with badly concealed emotion. "But your grand gesture was even bigger."

"Our grand gesture is based on your grand gesture," Juyeon adds, smirking. "It's like a remake."

"Shut up, both of you," Chanhee glares at them, the tip of his nose red from sniffling. "The point of this was to tell you we want to do this. We want to do this because what we have is hard to come around and I don't want to call you friends inside my head anymore."

"We'll do this, then?" Kevin asks and, for his credit, his voice only sounds slightly panicky. "We'll date. Be boyfriends."

"Fine with me," Juyeon shrugs. There's so much love in his gaze when he looks at them, has it always been this obvious? "As long as Changmin forgives us for ghosting him for a week."

Changmin stands up and pulls them into a tight embrace. "You're all a bunch of assholes."

He doesn't mean that. What he means, feeling their arms wrapped around him, is _I love you, I love you, I love you_.

...

Choi Chanhee is twenty-two years old.

He has a successful academic career, a decent paying job with a kind boss and supportive coworkers, two nosy, loving, respectful roommates, a friend group who uplift him and three soulmates who adore him.

It's exhausting, it's puzzling, it's challenging, it's not what he's imagined or idealized when he was younger, it's not what he set up for himself while surrounding himself with romantic literature but—

It feels complete, now.

**Author's Note:**

> WE'RE DONE! PHEW! writing this has been a WHIRLWIND, i tell you that. there's a couple things i'd like to clarify:
> 
> — this had several attempts to create a story where things felt realistic to the reader but i need to let you all know i don't know shit about dance, law firms, cooking, flowers, the life of a singer, really, most of the things that were depicted in here
> 
> — i saw this fic going around differently, with one entire chapter for each member, but i didn't think it would be possible due to the fact i had a deadline _and_ real life was eating my ass. i decided to give all four 98z multiple povs throughout the story and tried to follow an order about it? i really hope that wasn't confusing.
> 
> — i'm not 100% sold on this. i'm proud of myself for finishing it and there are some parts i feel like could be enjoyable and i definitely put effort into writing it, however, i'm unsure about the characterization and the pacing. this was supposed to be a character study work! and i didn't like my characterization! so that's something. jukev were voices i particularly thought were hard to nail lol i always took the longest time writing their parts. 
> 
> — with that being said, i think some of the things i built in this universe are cute and amusing, so one day i might write some extras/spinoffs. if there's one person or dynamic you've seen on this fic you'd like to see more of, please let me know in the comments hehe 
> 
> i hope this was an enjoyable experience if you made it thus far, really. i've already stumbled upon so many INCREDIBLE fics on this fest already it makes me hopeful for the deobi ficwriting future. have a nice day! +now that the reveals happened feel free to hmu on [twt](https://twitter.com/0309line) or [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/hwalltape)!!


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